#i did this instead of revising for my english exam | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amjustagirl · 4 years ago

Text

The sky of the sky (of the tree called life)

Pairing: Suga x reader

AO3 Link Here:

Summary: She doesn’t take much notice of him at first, not when he’s one of thirty nine faces that greet her with varying degrees of interest when their teacher introduces her to the class.But then he hits her in the face with his friendship and she starts to get to know him - through the smallest things, in the littlest ways.

Author’s Notes: This is the first fic I wrote and initially posted as a lone (AO3 link (was still getting the hang of Tumblr lol). Lifted the title from ‘I carry your heart’ by E.E. Cummings. Anyways - this is my humble attempt at a fic, my love letter to one Sugawara Koushi.

Ume doesn’t take much notice of him at first, not when he’s one of thirty nine faces that greet her with varying degrees of interest when their teacher introduces her to the class. She doesn’t take much notice of anyone really, not when her mind is consumed with thoughts of college prep and exams and chores, so he remains a stranger, even after weeks of sitting next to him in class.

Still, he greets her every morning with a pleasant ‘Ohayo’, and doesn’t take offense when she merely responds with a small smile. He offers up his notes without comment when she asks to check her English notes against his, and even occasionally slips her a banana from the stash he always seems to be carting around. His grades are decent and his homework is always submitted on time so he’s popular with their teachers, even though he seems to spend most of his break time sketching what looks like volleyball plays or buried in heated discussions with Sawamura.

Overall, he seems like a nice boy - if a little obsessed with volleyball.

She looks at her lunch box in dismay. There should be food in it, rice and tamago and fish that she most definitely packed last night, but her lunch box sits on her desk, clean and empty. She groans, glancing at the clock. Five minutes after the lunch bell. She ponders on whether to wait until dinner or be jostled to death by a thousand teenagers, but then her stomach growls, loud enough for Yuna-san in the front row to turn and stare at her, so she supposes there isn’t much of a choice.

As she approaches the canteen, she can hear the usual bustle and sound of too many students trying to feed themselves in too small a space - but then she hears a shrill shout - ‘cream buns for sale’, and the immediate cacophony of excited shouts that follow makes her think that her chances of getting food in the next half hour plummet to precisely zero.

Her assessment is right, but that doesn’t stop her mouth from dropping in horror as the canteen practically descends into a warzone, her schoolmates collectively losing their minds. The girls’ tennis team looks like they’re leading a charge through the left, but they’re being resisted by the concert band. The volleyball boys’ team seems like they’re causing plenty of chaos down the centre. Sawamura-san, engaged in a vigorous shoving match with the basketball captain, and Azumane-san - the large, quiet boy she shares home economics class with, cowering while trying to swim through the crowd with a feral looking boy perched on his back.

She apologises silently to her stomach and turns to head back to class.

‘Imai-san!’ Sugawara waves at her from the back of the crowd. ‘I’ll help you get some buns! What do you want!’

‘Oh – two buns, any flavour?” she calls back, a little dazed. He answers with a cheerful thumbs up.

She watches bemusedly as he expertly weaves his way through the crowd to Azumane-san, gesturing wildly to the little boy on her back, before combining forces with a bald boy to shove Azumane-san bodily through the crowd to the front of the queue. The boys grab armfuls of buns each, elbowing the displeased soccer team in the face.

Sugawara spins around, and there’s a glint in his eye that she can recognise from far away (courtesy of being an older sister to two troublesome younger brothers), but her legs don’t move despite her mind hollering at her danger, danger, Imai Ume, even as he raises his arm to toss the buns to her.

One bun lands neatly in her hands. The other smacks her right between her eyes.

She yelps, hands clapping over her face, checking to ensure her glasses are still in one piece. A curry bun may be relatively light and fluffy, but it still hurts when used as a flying projectile.

She hears footsteps clatter towards her. ‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry - please don’t cry!” Sugawara says, his voice high pitched in worry, hovering next to her awkwardly. “Daichi will never let me get over it if I make a girl cry.’

She snorts despite the sting between her eyes. “It’s fine, Sugawara-san. Thank you for helping get some food’.

‘Are you sure? Maybe we should go to the nurse’s office just in case!’ he fusses, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other nervously, ‘I’m such an idiot, I can’t believe I missed that toss, I should just resign from the volleyball team already - ‘

‘Eh eh eh? Suga - what’s this talk about resigning from volleyball!’ The small, feral boy from earlier leaps onto Sugawara’s back.

‘How can you resign? This is the year we’re making it to Nationals!’ the bald boy rounds up the rear, yelling at Sugawara indignantly.

‘I missed a toss at my classmate, I’m no longer qualified to be a setter.’ Sugawara wails, unfazed by the weight of his two juniors on his back. ‘I should just die now’

‘YOU THINK YOU’RE ASAHI NOW EH, DRAMA QUEEN!’

She takes advantage of their chaos to slip back to class. They don’t get a chance to speak to each other again for the rest of the day, kept busy with classes on calculus and chemistry for the rest of the afternoon. But the next morning he crows a loud ‘Ohayo’ at her, and she smiles at him, wider than she did before.

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Spring passes into summer surprisingly quickly, and Ume slowly, but surely, gets used to hearing the song of the cicadas in evenings instead of the rumble of cars in the streets, to the uphill bike commute she takes to ferry both herself and Yuji to school and kindergarten respectively.

Becoming accustomed to something doesn’t mean liking it though. She remembers her mother saying that things would be easier when they move to Karasuno from the city. That living with family in a close knit community like Karasuno means more hands on deck to keep their family afloat. For the most part, Ume supposes her mother’s right. Her grandparents are sweet and try their best to help out, if a little too old to chase Yuji around the house or fetch him up and down the mountain to preschool every day. Their neighbours always offer them too much food, and their grandchildren provide Yuji with enough entertainment most evenings for Ume to catch up with schoolwork and revision.

But sometimes, after she’s corralled an unruly Yuji to bed, and shooed a sullen Keiji to sleep, and she herself can’t fall asleep because the cicadas are too damn loud, Ume wonders if her mother uprooted them to Karasuno so she could run away from the fact that she’s stuck raising three children alone, disappearing off on such long business trips that Yuji doesn’t even ask her anymore if their mama’s coming home.

Thankfully, Yuji, with the short memory of a six year old, finds living in the countryside a joy. He joins the neighbour’s children in catching cicadas, and when she tells him that it’s cruel to catch animals for sport – even ones as annoying as cicadas, he laughs and promises that he always lets them go.

Keiji, though, remains quiet and withdrawn, hiding in the bedroom whenever he’s home from school. She tries chatting with him at the dinner table but her efforts are usually met with the surly silence of a thirteen year old. So she doesn’t push him too much, too fast - she already asks too much of him as it is, sharing most of the chores and supervising Yuji so they don’t become a burden to their grandparents.

So it’s a surprise when Keiji asks if they can head to the park for a picnic on a clear summer’s day, but she agrees immediately, swallowing her shock, making sure to pack onigiri and fruit and strapping Yuji to her bike. It’s strange when Keiji drags them all over the park looking for the perfect picnic spot. It’s even stranger when he decides that the playground, full of shrieking children, should be the appropriate spot for a picnic. But there’s a tree for shade and it’s convenient enough for her to watch Yuji while he runs loose in the playground, so she holds her tongue and spreads their picnic mat on the floor.

‘Can I get us some ice cream?’ Keiji asks.

She’s about to tell him to wait til he has proper food in his stomach before moving on to dessert, but catches sight of Keiji staring at the ice cream stand intently, hands in pockets, cheeks flushed pink. She follows his gaze. The ice cream stall looks fairly old, run by an oba-chan and a young girl with short hair and a cheerful smile. Oh.

‘Why don’t you go get an ice cream for yourself? Yuji and I can get some later’, Ume replies, busying herself with the picnic basket to hide her smile.

She settles on the mat, back against the tree, setting her textbook on her lap. The summer air is crisp and cool, and the sunlight shining through the leaves dances on her skin.

‘Hey Imai!’ Suga stops to greet her, hand raised in a friendly wave.

‘Hello!’ she waves back. ‘No volleyball practice today?’

‘No - we have a mandated break on Saturday afternoons’, he walks over to her. ‘Despite what my unruly kouhai think, overtraining causes injuries. Besides, we need time for summer homework’.

She nods, noticing the stack of books under his arm, and before her brain processes her sudden impulse fully, she asks ‘Do you want to join me? We can share the mat’.

He blinks at her, and she cringes internally, expecting him to politely decline. He may chatter at her absentmindedly about his team, and she may share her notes with him when she notices he’s distracted, but it’s not as if they’re friends outside of school. To her surprise though, he agrees easily, kicking off his shoes to join her on the mat. They sit together in silence, absorbed in their respective work. The sun is warm but the breeze is cool and crisp, so it’s comfortable and altogether pleasant.

‘Onee-chan’, Keiji calls, running back over. He raises an eyebrow when he notices Suga and drops into a slight bow before turning to his sister. ‘Can I have my onigiri? I want to pass it to my friend.’

She opens her mouth to nag him to make sure that he has lunch, but promptly shuts it. Instead, she tosses him two onigiris - hers, and his. ‘Make sure you eat, Keiji’, she calls, and he’s off, running with the wind.

‘Hey, Imai, I packed too much food. Share some of it with me?’ Suga offers mildly. She’s about to say no, thank you politely, but her stomach growls - traitor, and he just chuckles at her, snapping his lunchbox open and pressing half his sandwich into her hands. She thanks him, taking a bite and has to stop herself from moaning in delight because it’s full of egg mayo and chicken katsu and it’s so, so good.

‘It’s delicious, right?’ he says, grinning around a mouthful of his half of the sandwich. ‘You can’t study on an empty stomach, that’s against the law’.

She laughs at that and splits her stash of strawberries and watermelon with him.

Later, she shocks herself again when she tells him as he’s about to leave that she’ll probably be at the park again next Saturday - and he’s welcome to join her if he pleases. She wonders if he can see the uncertainty in her eyes, but he shoots her another smile and agrees.

-----------------------------------

She packs two extra onigiris next Saturday, and the Saturday after that. She also starts including peaches from her grandparents’ farm because she learns that he has a weakness for them.

Keiji ignores Suga for the most part, leaving for the ice cream stand as soon as they arrive in the park. Yuji, on the other hand, soon learns he can get Suga to do whatever he wants if he pouts long enough. Suga, for his part, does not help, often buying the little boy far too much mochi and ice cream.

‘Stop it Yuji.’ Ume says wearily. ‘Suga needs to study and you’re distracting him’.

‘But he’s the only one I know who can push me hard enough on the swings’, Yuji whines, scruffing his shoes into the ground.

‘It’s fine, I’ll take it as my break’, Suga says, smiling kindly down at the little boy. ‘Shall we see how high you can fly, Yuji-chan?’

She watches, shaking her head as Yuji cheers, dragging Suga off in the direction of the playground.

‘You seem good with kids’, she remarks when he returns - thankfully after a short while since Yuji, with the typical attention span of a six year old, is quickly distracted by the other kids playing a game of tag.

‘You think so?’ Sugawara responds, turning back to his books. ‘That’s good to know. I’m planning on going to college to train to be a teacher.’

The image of him dressed in a rumpled shirt and tie greeting his class with a cheerful ‘Ohayo’ every morning flashes in her mind. She imagines him smiling wide and indulgent at his student’s pranks, listening patiently to his students’ questions and problems, diligently pouring over his students’ assignments late into the night.

For some reason, her heart clenches. She doesn't know why.

-----------------------------------

‘Tohoku Medical school?’, he asks, eyeing the flyer sticking out of her bag.

‘Mm.’ she mumbles, distracted by the peach juice running down her hands. Then she realises what he’s just said and wrinkles her nose. ‘The entrance exam is hard though. Not a lot of people pass.’

‘Ugh, stop that, your grades are so good- negativity begone!’ He nudges her teasingly with his elbow. She rolls her eyes at him in response.

‘Why, though?’ he asks, before quickly adding. ‘If you don’t mind saying’.

She’s about to rattle off her prepared answer of heeding the noble calling of saving lives and making a difference one person at a time, but for some reason, she doesn’t.

Instead, she jerkily answers - ‘My dad was a doctor’.

She can feel him raise his eyebrows at her use of past tense (and not present tense) and suddenly the peach in her hand doesn’t seem as appetising as it was before.

‘Cancer’, she finds herself saying. ‘Last year’. She looks down at her feet, refusing to see what she expects will be pity in his gaze.

But he doesn’t say anything. He leans his shoulder against hers, and they stay that way for a while.

She doesn’t protest this time when he comes back from the ice cream stall with far too much ice cream, and the tightness in her chest dissipates as she watches him let Yuji flit between his chocolate and vanilla cones like a honeybee, even though she knows she’s going to have a hard time putting the little boy to bed tonight.

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'I like Suga-san very much.' Yuji declares later as she tucks him into bed.

'So do I', Ume says. So do I’.

The call of the cicadas don’t seem as loud, and she falls asleep easily that night.

-----------------------------------

‘You should be studying’, she reminds him, playfully rapping on his knuckles with her pen.

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, looking up from his sketches on volleyball plays. ‘A couple more minutes and I’ll get back to work’.

She shakes her head indulgently at him. ‘You spend far too much time on volleyball as it is’.

‘I suppose I do’, he hums, busy drawing indecipherable pictures in what she’s termed his volleyball notebook.

She’s suddenly reminded of Yamada and Takashi, the two basketball idiots in her class, goading Suga about ‘being a loser for losing his starting position to a first year’. Sawamura usually erupts in anger when he hears them as he’s wont to do whenever he encounters the basketball club, but Suga, for his part, only responds with a serene smile.

‘Is it worth it?’ she asks, before she can stop herself. ‘Sorry’ she says frantically, as her brain catches up with her mouth. ‘That was rude of me’.

He breathes a rueful laugh through his nose. ‘It’s fine, I’m not offended’. But he stops his scribbling, and his mouth slants downward in a way that Ume doesn’t quite like.

‘It’s worth it’, he then says, voice quiet but full of conviction. ‘It’s worth it to play with my team. I want us to keep getting stronger, I want us to keep playing together, and I want us to go to Nationals and win’. He gazes into the distance and smiles, bittersweet. ‘And everything else doesn’t matter’.

It’s her turn to lean into him with her shoulder.

‘I’ll bring Yuji to watch you at the finals’, she says. ‘And we’ll watch you at Nationals on our TV’.

He laughs and she smiles, wide and bold and bright.

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Sugawara spends their lunch breaks talking about his team’s latest exploits all the time. She laughs when he tells her about the hijinks that the team constantly gets up to, from setting fire to the Vice Principal’s very obvious toupee, to an all out prank war with the basketball team featuring copious amounts of dead fish and paint bombs. She particularly enjoys Suga’s impression of Nishinoya’s ‘rolling thunder’ war cry, and rather suspects the whole team is intent on driving Sawamura into an early grave.

Despite having a tendency to smile indulgently at his team’s penchant for chaos and hellfire, it’s clear that Suga cares deeply for each and every one of his teammates. He broods about Tsukkishima’s lack of ambition and desire to bond with the team, Yamaguichi’s lack of confidence, Kageyama’s and Hinata’s inability to communicate like regular human beings. Even when he jokes about Ennoshita’s latest attempt to evade Sawamura’s talks about ‘passing on the captainship’, she can sense the undercurrent of worry and concern.

Perhaps that’s why she volunteers to give tutoring Tanaka and Nishinoya a go, after he explains that they’ll end up missing the Tokyo Training Camp that Takeda-sensei went through so much trouble to arrange. She also tells herself that the reason she’s doing it is because Second year Math is covered in the university entrance exams - and absolutely not because Suga practically lights up with relief when she waves his thanks away.

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Tanaka and Nishinoya remind her of Yuji and even Keiji (well, before), rowdy and loud and full of boyish mischief. They fall out of their chairs when they notice Kiyoko-san walk by the classroom deep in conversation with some boy, and she has to rap them on their knuckles with a pen to get them to focus on solving question number two - please and thank you - before they settle back down.

Still, they’re surprisingly attentive and almost respectful even when she’s trying to impress upon them the dryer points of Math, so it’s easy to become fond of them. They get through vectors after she likens the trajectory of vectors to the movement of a volleyball. Statistics were a struggle, but fortunately, volleyball statistics save the day. Calculus seems to be the biggest hurdle, but she’s hopeful they’ll get it, once she finds a way to relate it to volleyball or better yet, convince them that differentiation and integration are very, very manly pursuits.

That said, it doesn’t help that the basketballers in her class seem to have a deep rooted grudge against the volleyball team - though from Suga’s stories, the animosity is probably mutual. Yamada in particular seems to take special pleasure in taunting the two boys.

‘Eh, Baldy! Y’all lose another game yet? I saw you guys crying the other day after school’.

‘They’d probably win more games if chibi-chan here grew a few inches’, Takashi, his fellow basketballer sniggers.

‘Ignore them’, she tells the two growling boys firmly. ‘You don’t need to get kicked out of your team for starting a fight with these guys’.

‘Awww… are you two kouhai hiding behind your female senpai? ’ Yamadai jeers, leering at them. ‘What losers, just like your Suga-senpai. Heard he got turfed out of his starting position by a first year’.

At that, Tanaka and Nishinoya practically levitate out of their seats as one, snarling ‘Huh?!!! You fucking -’

‘Bit rich of you to pick on them, eh Yamada?’ Ume interrupts. ‘I heard Ono-senpai say last week that if you fail your tests one more time, you’re going to get kicked out of the basketball team. Who’s the loser now?’

‘Bitch!’ Yamada growls, hands slapping his desk.

‘Maybe you’d have a better shot at passing your exams if you spent your time studying instead of disturbing others - who unlike you are actually working hard,’ she adds, smiling at him sweetly.

Thankfully, Takashi has some sense of self-preservation and drags Yamada kicking and screaming out of the door. Tanaka and Noya swivel their heads towards her, twin expressions of shock on their faces.

‘Holy shit, that was so manly?!’

‘Imai-senpai, you’re almost as cool as Kiyoko-senpai!’

‘Yeah - almost as good as the time she ignored us when we asked her to marry us.’

‘No - better, but not as good as the time she slapped me’

‘Thank you’, she responds dryly. ‘Can we get back to differentiation, please?

‘Yes, Imai-senpai!’ They snap into a salute.

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‘I hear from Tanaka and Noya that you’re very manly’. His eyes twinkle at her.

‘Psh’, she says airily. ‘They exaggerate’.

But she laughs when he slips her half his sandwich as thanks.

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Noya and Tanaka pass their exams (by some miracle, thank god), and they graduate from her tutoring sessions.

She passes her exams too, tops her cohort even.

Her classmates start to take more notice of her, requesting for copies of her notes and tutoring sessions on topics they don’t really grasp. It's not really that much of a problem to just have an extra set of notes for her classmates to copy (she learnt her lesson when Takashi spills juice all over her precious biology notes - an accident, of course), and extra tutoring sessions are a good way for her to revise what she previously learnt - so she doesn’t really mind.

Of course she knows they think they're picking her brains and hard work, but it's not as if she minds. They're reasonably polite when they approach her, and she can pretend she doesn’t hear them gossip about her behind her back (that her parents are rich enough to send her to not one, but two cram schools, that they must know the principal who leaked the exam topics to her somehow).

Still, she can’t help but feel a spike of irritation when Yamada manages to corner her alone in class one day after school.

‘Oi, Ikai. Can you give me a copy of your math notes? I hear they're pretty good.'

She blinks innocently at him. ‘My notes cover whatever sensei taught in class if you were listening’. Which he probably wasn't, considering he seems to spend most of his time tossing spitballs or bouncing a basketball obnoxiously against the wall.

‘Tch.’ He leans towards her. ‘Come on, don’t be a stingy bitch. Just lend them to me for a bit.’

She narrows her eyes at the audacity of this bugger. 'No.' she says simply.

'Eh?' Yamada glares down at her.

'Did a basketball hit you too hard in the head yesterday? I said no.' She turns her back on him, packing her school bag, keeping her sharpest pencil in her hand, just in case.

He takes a step closer towards her, both hands heavy on her desk. 'But you share your notes with everyone else!’

‘Well, yes - but that’s because they're tolerably polite when they ask, and unlike you, they actually get my name right.’

He slaps her table hard with his hands. ‘Stop being a bitch, just give me your notes already'.

She should just give him what he's asking for or placate him with the promise that she'll give him a copy tomorrow - but she suddenly feels so sick and tired of giving more and more of herself - to her mother, her brothers, her classmates, and now this rude asshole - and she's so done, goddamnit.

'No.' She snaps, lifting her chin defiantly at him. 'What are you going to do about it?'

He snarls, grabbing hold of her wrist. 'Stubborn bitch, just give me the notes already!'

'Let go, pig!', she shouts, trying to wrench her wrist away, mind whirring to calculate the force and speed needed to shove her pencil into his face. His grip tightens, and he digs his nails into the thin skin of her wrist.

He smirks down at her. She tries not to flinch.

'Hey, Imai. Got worried about you when you didn’t turn up at the library.' Suga calls out, loud and clear from the door. Ume exhales a breath she didn’t even know she was holding as he walks deliberately towards them.

‘Yamada-san. I always knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t know you stooped so low you’d bully a girl’.

Yamada takes a half step back, but does not release her hand. 'Piss off, Suga. It’s none of your business'.

‘Perhaps’, he responds, humming diffidently. ‘But I thought I should remind you that if you get just one more strike on your disciplinary record, you’re off the basketball team’. His mouth stretches into a semi feral smile. ‘For good.’

Yamada coils back, looking as if he’d like nothing better than to strike Suga in the face, but then, seemingly thinking the better of it, he drops Ume’s wrist and smirks again. ‘We were just having a friendly discussion, eh Imai?’

‘Remind your thick skull to keep it that way.’ Suga says, meeting Yamada’s glare with an even gaze of his own.

Yamada looks away. 'Tch. I can't be bothered with you dumbasses', he sneers, stalking out of the class.

‘Are you ok?’ Suga asks her immediately, glancing at her once over, stopping short when he spots the red welts ringed around her wrist. ‘Did he do that to you?’ he asks, voice dangerous.

‘I’m fine.’ She follows his gaze and yanks her sleeve down, hiding the marks from view. ‘It’s nothing.’

He opens his mouth, about to insist that it is very much not fine, but she cut him off quickly. ‘Really! It’s my fault he got annoyed with me. He wanted a copy of my notes and I was very rude and didn’t want to give them to him,’ she laughs awkwardly. ‘Besides, it’s a good thing you stepped in when you did, or I’d have gotten into more trouble - because I was about to stab him with my pencil’.

Suga’s mouth drops open. ‘With your what?’

She unfurls her palm to show him her pencil, pink and sharp but altogether unconvincing.

He bursts into cackles, wheezing. ‘Maybe Tanaka should’ve taken his time to get me. I would’ve liked to see you try to fight Yamada with that’.

She snorts. ‘I’m just glad Tanaka showed some self-restraint and didn’t jump Yamada himself.’

‘Well, I’m pretty sure that’s because Ennoshita was there to stop him.’ Suga says wryly. He drops his gaze back to her wrist. ‘But seriously, if I’d known he hurt you, I’d have jumped him too’.

She looks at him sharply. ‘Suga… If any one of you get suspended, you can’t play in the Inter High Preliminaries.’

‘Not if we don’t get caught for it’. He gives her a zen smile as she splutters in shock. ‘Anyway, don’t you usually leave school to pick Yuji-chan up by now?’

‘Oh no, Yuji’s probably waiting for me!’ She cries out in alarm, dashing across the classroom.

At the doorway, she comes to a pause and turns around. ‘Suga!’

‘Mm?’ He tilts his head at her.

She smiles shyly. ‘Thanks’.

He smiles back.

----------------------------------

She ends up preparing a copy of her notes for Yamada anyway. He’s stubborn and stupid, and she figures that Suga’s interference, while welcome in the moment, is only likely to spur him on to pester her again. But when she walked into class the next morning, Yamada is nowhere to be found.

‘Did you hear Yamada-kun got caught with the vice principal’s burnt wig in his locker?’ she hears Yuna whisper to Mizuki before the bell rings.

‘Oh no! Is he in a lot of trouble?’ Mizuki gasps.

‘I don’t know, but I heard from Takashi that he’s been suspended from the basketball team indefinitely!’

‘No! Don’t they have a game next week?’

Ume looks over her shoulder at Suga, sitting with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

‘I may have mentioned to Noya what happened with Yamada-san. Tanaka, of course, was very happy to help out’, he says simply when she corners him after school.

Yamada does return to class eventually, but he refuses to even look in her direction for the next month. She figures she’d much rather not press for answers she suspects she wouldn’t like. Instead, she spends the night cutting out twelve crow charms from black felt with the help of a very eager Yuji, hand stitching each member’s number in white thread and leaving them in Suga’s bag for him to find.

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She sneaks Yuji with her when the school buses students in for Karasuno’s match with Shiratorizawa.

They all watch with tears in their eyes when the final whistle blows and the boys win.

‘Congratulations, Suga’, she tells him the next day and adds. ‘I think Yuji’s found a new way to fly’.

He grins at her, his eyes burning proud and bright.

------------------------------------

Fall fades into winter. The days start looping, one after another.

Wake up. Get Yuji to kindergarten. School. Homework. Pick Yuji up. Make dinner. Pack leftovers for lunch. Do laundry. Revision. Tuck Yuji into bed. More Revision. Sleep.

Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat.

She curses when the cock crows every morning, and falls asleep before her head hits the pillow every night, so she wonders how he manages to survive with practices lasting daily into the night. Or maybe he doesn’t, she thinks to herself, watching the shadows beneath his eyes grow, grey and dark.

‘Is it worth it?’ she asks. (Do you ever regret it, she implies.)

‘Yes.’ he says. (At least I hope I don’t, he sighs.)

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She notices immediately when his seat is empty. Sawamura tells her it’s to be expected, Suga always catches a cold in winter.

‘I don’t mind helping to bring his homework to him’, she volunteers. ‘You’re going to be staying late in school for practice anyway’. She avoids Sawamura’s knowing look as she writes Suga’s address down, his homework tucked safely into her bag.

His mother beams, surprised and delighted when she appears at their door. She’s promptly shooed upstairs, and Yuji is lured into the kitchen with promises of mochi and ice cream. She knocks on the open door. He’s crouched on the bed, watching a replay of Karasuno’s finals match against Shiratorizawa.

‘Hey. I brought your homework.’ She frowns, noting the paleness of his face despite the redness of his cheeks. ‘Shouldn’t you be resting?’

‘I’m watching the match to fall asleep!’ he says defensively.

‘The match is at least two hours long! If you’re well enough to watch the match, you’re well enough to do your homework’.

‘Give me a break’. He groans, sneezing into the crook of his elbow. ‘I’m dying here’.

‘I’m pretty sure you can’t die from a common cold’ she says dryly.

‘Says the one who wants to be a doctor’, he playfully responds.

She rolls her eyes. ‘Don’t argue with me. Get some rest. You don’t have much time before you head off to Tokyo for Nationals, and the Center Shinken* is just after that’.

His smile drops, and he suddenly looks troubled. ‘Do you think I’m crazy?’

(For chasing too many dreams?)

She blinks, confused by his change in mood. She glances at the Miyagi University of Education pamphlet pinned to his wall - only one in three applicants get in. She furrows her brow, thinking about him spending every lunch break, every afternoon and night in their rundown school gym, even as everyone else is spending their days buried in schoolwork and revision.

But then she hears the echo of his words - It’s worth it. I want to play with my team, the cries from the huddle of boys, the memory of him holding a trophy under bright lights and her face softens.

‘Where’s all this self-doubt coming from?’ she says lightly. ‘You already achieved your dream of going to Nationals with your team. Now all you have to do is pass one exam.’

‘As if it’s so easy!’

‘Well, it’d be easier if you rest up so you can get back to work faster!’

‘Ugh, spoilsport’, he pouts at her.

‘Onee-chan’, Yuji pipes up, poking his head into the bedroom. 'Obaa-san said it's time for Suga-san to eat his medicine and take a nap.'

‘Hello, Yuji-chan!’ Suga waves at Yuji, who gives him a gap toothed grin in response.

‘You should tuck him in and tell him a bedtime story’. Yuji tells his sister seriously. She chokes and thinks she should have taken the chance to dump him under a bridge when he was a baby.

Suga laughs so hard he wheezes. 'I won't mind a bedtime story' he chokes out.

Both boys turn to look at her expectantly. 'Fine.' she says, relenting. 'I’ll tell you a bedtime story if you promise you'll try your best to go to sleep'.

They grin and settle down, Yuji on his sister’s lap, Suga laying against his nest of pillows.

She begins telling them a story she’s told Yuji many, many times these past months - about a kind-hearted Prince in a kingdom troubled by a yearly winter plague, who set out to find the cure for this illness, flowers that bloom on the highest of mountains in the deepest, darkest winter days. A Prince who tries to scale the mountain to find the cure, year after year, but is thwarted by blizzards and avalanches and snow monsters.

A small smile grows on his lips as she describes the Prince’s companions - the stalwart captain of his guards, the burly woodcutter with a heart of glass, and he stifles a laugh when she recounts how the Prince manages to trick his frosty hearted little brother to join them along the way. His breath evens out when she reaches the end of her tale, when the Prince and his companions scale the mountain and look down on a field of flowers, green and gold.

'And they lived happily ever after?' Suga murmurs, half asleep.

'And they lived happily ever after' Ume agrees.

She pulls his blanket up under his chin as he slips into sleep, hesitating as warmth furls and unfurls in her chest, before brushing her hand tenderly against his cheek.

----------------------------------

Third years are released from school for self-study.

She works alone at home. The winter days grow long and dark and hard.

(Her heart clenches. It starts to ache.)

----------------------------------

They graduate on a spring day, a shower of pink and white petals blessing their way. He catches up to her in the hallway after the graduation ceremony, hand at her sleeve.

‘Congrats on Tohoku’, he tells her, bright eyed. ‘I knew you could do it’.

‘Congrats on MUE’, she responds with a laugh. ‘See - you weren’t crazy after all’.

‘I suppose I’ll be seeing you around Sendai City? Your campus isn’t too far from mine.’

She opens her mouth to tell him not to be silly - Sendai City is nothing like Karasuno town, a million people within its bounds, and the probability of them meeting randomly on the streets is very, very small, but her throat suddenly becomes dry.

‘Suga’ she begins, balling her hands into fists.

‘Mm?’ he beams at her, brighter than the sun, and it’s all she can do to not to look away.

‘Thank you’, she says quietly. ‘For bringing some light into my life’.

‘I should be thanking you’, he replies earnestly. ‘You’ve been a good friend to me this past year. I don’t think I’d have passed my exams without you’.

“No, Suga,’ she says. ‘I mean - I like you’.

‘Oh.’ he breathes. ‘Oh’.

‘I like you’, she repeats, her voice growing stronger. ‘Because you were kind to me when there was no reason to. You bought bread for me, even if you ended up throwing it in my face. You stole and burnt a wig for me, just to put Yamada in his place. You spent your summer days buying Yuji too much ice cream, swinging him so high he thought he could touch the sky.’

‘I like you, Suga,’ she says finally. ‘Not just as a friend - but as a girl likes a boy.’

He stares at her, eyes wide. A few beats of silence pass.

‘I’m sorry’. He grimaces. ‘I don’t know what to say’.

‘It’s fine’, she finds herself saying. ‘It’s ok’.

(Her heart clenches. She wills it not to break.)

----------------------------------

Ume does not look back. Her bag is packed, and she leaves for Sendai City that week.

Her apartment is small, but she shares it with a few other girls. At night, she re-acquaints herself with the sound of cars rumbling on the street. The song of the cicadas haunts her in her sleep.

(Her heart clenches. She does not break.)

----------------------------------

Suga prides himself on being relatively observant and good with things like subtlety and tact and feelings - things that volleyball obsessed idiots like Daichi wouldn’t even notice if it hit him in the face.

He observes people and notices things, the way Kiyoko isn’t as indifferent to Tanaka as she seems, the way Yamaguchi’s serve suddenly improves when Yachi shouts ‘Gambatte’, the way Yui’s vocabulary immediately regresses whenever she’s talking to Daichi - though to be fair, he’s certain the only person in their level to not know about Yui’s crush on Daichi himself, so maybe that doesn’t count.

(‘I like you, Suga,’ he hears her say. ‘Not just as a friend - but as a girl likes a boy.’)

But then his brain short circuits and stutters to a stop, and it’s all he can do to watch dumbly as Ume turns on her heel and walks off, head high, back straight, he wonders if he’s not much better than the rest of them after all.

----------------------------------

‘Imai Ume said she likes me’. He finds himself telling Daichi, as they walk home from school, pork buns in hand, for the very last time.

Daichi grunts something unintelligible through a mouthful of pork bun.

‘Use your words, Daichi’. Suga can’t help but snark. Daichi grumbles and swallows.

‘Yes. I knew that already’. Daichi says simply. He starts on his second pork bun.

‘What?’ Suga retorts. ‘What do you mean you know? How did you know?’

This time, Daichi chews and swallows before he responds. ‘It was obvious to me.’ He turns to look at Suga squarely. ‘So what are you going to do about it?’

----------------------------------

(‘I’m Sugawara Koushi! But everyone just calls me Suga’. // ‘Imai Ume. It’s nice to meet you.’)

To be honest, he didn't think much of her at first when she joined their class. She had a habit of keeping to herself, never lingering in class before or after lessons, eating lunch alone at her desk, nose buried in a book, but he was brought up with good manners - so he kept greeting her every morning until her small nods turn into quiet smiles.

Of course, he just had to embarrass himself by hitting her in the face with a curry bun (Noya and Tanaka will never let him live it down), but in hindsight that probably kickstarted their friendship. And he’s very grateful for it. She's always passing him copies of her notes for lessons he’s missed or summaries of exam topics she thinks might come in useful, all painstakingly handwritten and colour coded - and even gives him the go-ahead to share it with Daichi. She volunteers to tutor Noya and Tanaka, and he’s sure that it’s in no small part due to her effort that they pass and get to attend training camp.

Yet he’s never considered her more than a friend. Right?

Right?

If he analyses the case of how he feels about one Imai Ume carefully, sifting through the puzzle pieces one at a time, he realises that he's not quite right.

There are little things that come to mind. Like his heart skipping a beat when he hears her laugh for the first time. The flush of his cheeks when he finds out she actually brought Yuji to watch their games. The rush of pride and joy when she tells him ‘I think he’s found a new way to fly’.

And maybe there are bigger things. Like the burst of blind panic in his chest when he hears Tanaka shout for him. The burning urge to break Yamada’s jaw and wipe that smirk off his ugly face when he sees red marks marring her skin. The cold satisfaction in his chest when he (and half the volleyball team) strike that bastard exactly where it hurts.

He remembers the sunshine dancing on her skin, the warmth of her shoulder pressed against his. The touch of her hand ghosting against his cheek. The faint memory of a fairytale about a Prince who gave his all and finds everything he set out to seek.

('And they lived happily ever after?' he asks // 'And they lived happily ever after' she agrees.)

The puzzle pieces fit. It finally clicks.

‘Shit,’ he swears, dialing Daichi’s number.

‘It’s midnight’, Daichi mumbles, voice rough with sleep. ‘What could you possibly want from me?’

‘I like Ume’, Suga says - and just saying it feels right. ‘I like her, Daichi’.

He hears an almighty yawn - and then he can almost see Daichi smile.

‘So what are you going to do about it?’

----------------------------------

What is he going to do about it?

Get hold of one Imai Ume and tell her that his mouth moved faster than his brain (and heart), of course.

----------------------------------

But what can he do about it?

Not very much, as it turns out.

For starters, he realises they’ve never exchanged numbers. He never felt the need to, they were classmates, no, seatmates, so she was always there, like the sun and stars in the sky.

He tries to find where she lives by asking around but soon meets a dead end. Karasuno Town isn’t large by any measure, the main shopping street fanning out into a smattering of small rural neighbourhoods. But he knows for a fact that Ume stays with her maternal grandparents, and she’s never once mentioned their surname, so he’s left with little to go on.

‘At least I know she’s moving to Sendai City’, he mopes to Daichi over a steaming bowl of ramen.

Daichi, probably tired of the number of times he’s heard him repeat this, just slurps his noodles noisily.

----------------------------------

He and Daichi rent a flat from a little old lady who pats their chests and pinches their cheeks. It’s halfway between their schools, five minutes from the convenience store, and the rent is pretty cheap.

They soon settle into the rhythm of university life. They cycle to school in the mornings for lectures, struggle with tutorials, and fight over chores. Their social life isn’t too shabby either - they both make plenty of friends and even join volleyball teams.

Still, Suga can’t help feeling like something’s missing. ‘Someone, not something, you dolt’, his inner voice tells him, sounding suspiciously like Daichi.

He starts seeing the ghost of her everywhere.

He stares when he sees the slant of her shoulders in his classmate in the front seat. He crashes into Daichi when he thinks he hears the birdsong of her laughter float down the street. He picks up a habit of doing a double take at almost every girl he meets.

‘Stop it’, Daichi tells him crossly. ‘People are going to think you’re some kind of freak or pervert.’

He tries, he really does. But then months pass, and he starts to think that maybe Sendai City, with its million residents and a million more trees, might have hidden her out of his reach.

----------------------------------

Summer arrives, and he returns home to Karasuno. He and Daichi and Asahi find themselves back in the school gym often, and he finds himself being dragged into practice match after practice match with his unruly kouhai. It’s a good way to spend his holidays, but he can’t help thinking if there isn’t a route he hasn’t explored yet.

‘No, Sugawara-kun, I can’t give you the contact details of our alumni, even if they’re your old classmates’, Takada-sensei says indignantly. ‘And don’t even think about breaking into the staff room at night!’

Eh. At least that was worth a try.

----------------------------------

Tashiro senpai means well, he really does. But Daichi lets it slip that he’s been moping over some girl (‘For months!’, he roars), so on a Friday night, Suga finds himself thrust head first into a party at Tashiro’s apartment, surrounded by way too many people and not enough food. Daichi’s chatting with Yui (Go, Yui!), and he doesn’t know anyone else, so he doesn’t say no when Tashiro pushes cans of beer and cups of cheap spirits into his hands.

He’s a few months short of being able to legally drink, and it’s the first time he’s drinking outside his family home - but well, what Daichi doesn’t know won’t kill him. Soon though, the living room feels far too warm and the music is far too loud, so he figures he may as well seek fresh air and whatever refuge he can get on the cramped balcony beyond the kitchen.

He leans his forehead against the bannister. Gah. His head hurts. His stomach churns.

A raindrop splatters on to the back of his neck, then another, and soon he can hear the gentle patter of rain against the roof. He rights himself with a groan, and begins to head back inside. As he slides the glass door open, he turns and sees the silhouette of a girl emerge into the balcony, two apartments down, clearing her clothes from the laundry rack.

He stops. He can almost hear Daichi roaring at him at the back of his mind, but Suga can’t help but stare and think ‘there’s something awfully familiar about that girl’, but then - hasn’t he thought that about almost every girl he’s bumped into these past few months?

She takes a step forward and her face is lit by cheap fluorescent lights. He can see her clearly now, recognises the tilt of her chin, the curve of her cheeks and - by god, it’s her. His legs move and he lurches to the edge of the balcony, shouting her name like a loon.

Their eyes meet.

She yelps. And promptly drops her laundry basket, scrambling back inside.

He dashes back into Tashiro’s living room and trips into the corridor, ignoring Daichi’s shouts as he slams his fists into her front door. Her door remains stubbornly closed, and he keeps yelling, keeps beating her door. He can hear Daichi follow him, and he’s certain he’s going to get a bollocking tomorrow morning, but he doesn’t care, he’s finally found her in the midst of a million people and a million more trees and nothing else really matters.

The door swings open, and Imai Ume stands in the doorway looking livid. ‘My roommate is this close to calling the police,’ she hisses.

Daichi yanks him back with his shirt and snaps into a low bow. ‘Sorry for the trouble caused’, he says, and adds - that sly dog, ‘He may have drank a bit too much Umeshu’.

‘For God’s sake, Sawamura’, he faintly hears her squawk. ‘Can’t you take care of him a little better? He looks like absolute shit’.

Suga stares at her glassy-eyed. All he wants to do is to take her hand and tell her all the things he’s dreamt of saying these past few months (starting with I’m sorry I was an idiot- and ending with I missed you) - but his mind is suddenly foggy and his ears are ringing and his stomach keeps bloody churning and he suspects his body might have just given up on him completely.

‘I told you’, he manages to say. ‘I told you we’d see each other again’.

He pukes at her feet and promptly passes out.

----------------------------------

When he wakes up, the sun is high in the sky, and he knows because he’s pretty sure it’s trying to stab him between the eyes. He flops over to his side.

What happened last night?

He cracks an eye open. He’s pretty sure he isn’t wearing his own pyjamas. The sweatshirt he has on is a touch too snug, the pants a touch too short - so definitely not Daichi’s either. He can’t be in Tashiro-senpai’s room either, because one, he’s pretty certain floral bedsheets aren’t his thing, and two, if he squints, he can see a pile of medical textbooks in the corner that definitely does not belong to him.

He groans, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, groping bleary eyed for his phone.

- You have 7 messages! -

[Daichi, 12.48am]: You are a very lucky man [Daichi, 12.48am]: Imai didn’t call the police on you [Daichi, 12.49am]: I had to clean up your puke [Daichi, 12.49am]: Wanted to lug you home but you’re heavier than you look [Daichi, 12.49am]: So she said to leave you and walk Michimiya home [Daichi, 12.50am]: Figure you’ll thank me anyway [Daichi, 12.51am]: Stay safe. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

‘You have got to be kidding me’, he moans. Fuck. His head still hurts.

Ume pokes her head into the room. ‘Oh, you’re awake. Feeling better?’

He snaps his head up and immediately regrets it. ‘Ow’, he whines, dropping his head in his hands.

‘I guess not’, she says. ‘Here’, she pokes him in the side. ‘Spare toothbrush. Wash up, and I’ll get breakfast ready so you can eat some meds’. She tugs him to his feet and pushes him into the bathroom.

This isn’t how he imagined meeting Ume again would be like. Getting piss drunk, puking at her door, and passing out in her bed? He’d take getting arrested over this any day, he thinks, moping to himself. Not to mention Daichi's probably going to kill him when he gets back. He shudders, then winces as he splashes cold water into his face.

Ume waves him into the kitchen. ‘Sit’, she says, and so he does. She sets a bowl of rice and fish and miso soup in front of him. ‘Eat’ she says, sliding a bottle of aspirin and a cup of hot tea at him. His stomach still hurts, but he's not about to let her effort go to waste.

‘Ittakimasu’, he says, putting his hands together, inclining his head slightly. Ume nods and sits across him, sipping her tea.

‘Thank you’, he says contritely. 'I'm sorry for the trouble I caused last night'.

‘It’s no problem. I managed to convince my roommates you were just a drunk ex-classmate, not some rapist or serial killer so they let you in', she hums, amused.

He groans. ‘I’m so sorry’.

'It's fine', she says, waving him away. 'I think Sawamura was a lot more mad than my roommates, since he had to clear your mess and then wrangle you into clean clothes’.

‘Well I think Daichi got to walk Michimiya home last night, so I don’t think he’ll be too mad’, he says drolly. She laughs at that, turning to clear the dishes into the sink.

‘Hey, Imai’. He takes a gulp of his tea, his throat suddenly dry.

‘Mm?’

‘'I - I missed you - you know, as a friend', he stammers at his hands. 'And I’d like to see you again. Maybe we could catch up over dinner sometime this weekend?'

She stills for a few seconds. 'I don't think it’d be a good idea to do that', she finally says.

His heart clenches. He wonders if he’s too late - if the distance that Sendai city with its million people and a million more trees has put between them is too great, if she no longer remembers their shared smiles and golden summer days. But then he sees the stack of blankets tucked into the corner of the couch, sees the food she must have woken up early to make, and wonders how his past self could have been so blind.

‘Imai’, he says. She keeps her eyes resolutely on the dish sponge in her hands. He exhales, and tells himself that it’s his turn to be brave. He takes a step towards her.

‘Ume’, he repeats, taking her hands into his. ‘Look at me’.

‘Stop it Suga! My hands are soapy’, she cries.

‘Nevermind that’, he says stubbornly. ‘Listen - I’m an idiot - and a coward. I meant it when I said I missed you, but I didn’t mean it as a friend’.

‘Wha-’, she begins to say but he cuts her off.

‘I like you, Imai Ume’, he breathes, bringing her hands close to his face. ‘I really like you - as a boy likes a girl. I want to keep holding your hands. I want to see you again - see you everyday, if you’ll let me'.

Her eyes widen, then she blinks slowly - once, twice, thrice.

‘Do you mean it?’ she asks, her eyes meeting his, and he’s struck by the thought that the stars in her eyes are so bright they can light up the night sky.

‘Why would I lie?’ he answers. ‘I’ve been looking over my shoulder every day for the past six months, hoping desperately to see you again.’

‘Oh', she breathes. ‘Oh’.

She gives him a look so full of affection and warmth - like sunlight breaking through the rain - that he knows he was right to be brave, knows that the past six months of searching and dreaming and longing hadn’t been a waste.

‘So… I take it you want to see me again?’ he asks cheekily.

‘Maybe’, she says, but her voice is teasing and she leans on to her toes to press her lips gently against his cheek.

‘I - I take that as a yes?’ he stutters and hates himself for flushing a bright pink, but refuses to release her hands.

‘Let me wash my hands first. Then - yes’, and she laughs, wide and bold and bright.

----------------------------------

Coda

----------------------------------

He opens the door and smiles at what has become a very familiar sight these past few weeks - Ume fast asleep at the kitchen table next to a half empty pot of tea, head pillowed against her textbooks. Usually, he’d just scoop her up and put her to bed, but they’ve not had much time together this week, what with him running all over the prefecture with his fledgling team for practice matches, and she with work and exams, so he decides to be a little selfish.

‘Ume’, he calls, shaking her shoulder gently. ‘Dearest. Wake Up.’

‘Mmph. Five more minutes. Go away.’ She mumbles, pushing his hand away.

‘Ume. Ummmeee,’ He drags out her name, finding extra syllables where there were previously none until she stirs, grumbling incoherently and he has to stifle a laugh when she swipes her hand across her mouth.

‘Oh! It’s you. Welcome home’, she folds herself upright, rubbing her eyes slowly. ‘Where’s Yuji? How was the match?’

‘Of course it’s me – who else would it be?’ he chuckles. ‘I dropped Yuji off at Kei-kun’s place for a sleepover with the team, they promised not to stay up all night eating junk and watching crappy movies but I don’t believe them. The match was great - we won! Yuji-chan did really well, he earned quite a few points and saved a few balls. You would’ve been proud of him. I know I was.’

‘That’s good, I’m sure he’ll tell me all about it tomorrow when he’s back.’ She nods towards the fridge. ‘I made mapo tofu for dinner – not too spicy though, your stomach will thank me after that long bus ride back.’

He hums a thanks, sliding the plate into the microwave, narrating a play by play of their match today, stopping only when he hears a loud yawn.

‘Go to bed, Ume’, he frowns at the lines of exhaustion on her face. ‘I shouldn’t be keeping you up, you have a morning shift tomorrow.’

‘Mm – I will, later. Was waiting for you. Mm’ not that tired,’ she protests, but then yawns again so widely he’s pretty sure he hears her jaw crack.

‘Bedtime, sleepyhead’, he says teasingly, lifting her into his chest.

It’s a testament to how tired she is when she doesn’t try to swat at him as she usually does, choosing instead to wrap her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck. His breath hitches, and he wants nothing more than to hold her close and hide in bed preferably forever, but reminds himself that they’re adults now (with awful things like jobs and responsibilities and worse, bills to pay), so he settles her onto their bed, tucking the pillow beneath her head, the sheets under her chin.

‘Goodnight, sweetheart. We’ll catch up properly on the weekend’, he whispers, pressing a kiss into her dark hair.

‘Mmph, love you’, she mumbles, half asleep.

‘Love you too’, he shuts the door with a click, a soft smile on his face.

He’s mentioned off-hand to her before that they’re lucky to be this happy.

‘It’s not all luck’, he remembers her replying. ‘Happiness isn’t easy to come by. It’s a choice. It takes effort and hard work to earn that choice, and you need to take the time to build it up, brick by brick, piece by piece.’

He used to wonder what she meant by that - but six years in, and he thinks he finally understands what she means.

She’s meticulous in the way she makes him happy - the way she catalogues his quirks and deals patiently with his follies. How she knows to always leave food in the fridge for him after work so he won’t get cranky. How she tries her best to stay up and listen to him complain about his frustrations with pushy parents or irresponsible kids, how she tries to watch every one of his (and Yuji’s) games should time permit. He can see it even in the way she smiles indulgently when she sends him off with Daichi and Tanaka for izakaya and drinks.

For his part - he wonders if he does enough. He wakes up early most mornings to hitch a ride with her to work so they get a chance to chat about their day. He buys flowers from the florist down the street for her every week, and slips sandwiches and post-it notes in her work bag when he knows she’s had a long shift. He holds her close when she collapses on the couch, boneless and exhausted from a hard day.

He thinks about the life they share - weeknights spent sitting together, him sketching lesson plans and volleyball plays and she reading up for exams and work cases, weekends spent in grocery stores and parks and volleyball games. Six years together - they’re happy, and they show it in the quietest of ways.

They’re driving back to Karasuno this weekend - ostensibly to celebrate Keiji’s birthday and meet a couple of friends. But he’s conspired with Keiji and Yuji so he can sneak her away to the park for a picnic under the tree where they share memories of long, quiet talks and golden summer days. He’s hidden her ring in a picnic box full of homemade onigiri and sandwiches, strawberries and peaches.

He plans to go down on one knee and ask if she’d like to continue working on being happy with him forever.

He hopes she’ll say yes.

(She does.)

#haikyuu #haikyuu fic rec #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #haikyu x reader #sugawara #sugawara fic #sugawara headcanon #sugamama #haikyuu fluff #karasuno #haikyuu fic #sugawara x reader #suga

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khaleesiofalicante · 2 years ago

Note

Honestly watching the last minute panic before these exams smh

There’s this one guy who without fail, the night before the exam, messages on the group chat:

What’s on the test?

What’s the question?

What are the topics?

How do I answer that question?

It’s honestly quite hilarious and sweet and sort of scary like we’ve been doing this course for 2 years and you still don’t know the content… it’s the night before 😭

I’ve got English tmrw and I wanna do English next year so I’m a bit arghh and i had maths today and it was fine but COMPLETELY exhausted and my Spanish teacher makes you feel like absolute shit for not knowing a really obscure word that we’ve NEVER been taught like bro teach us better then 😭

So instead of going to English revision I went home and slept for over an hour and now it’s like 8:30 and I have two exams tmrw and honestly revision? What revision? I’m just gonna keep myself alive

The worst thing is is that I was thinking oh I didn’t feel great today maybe I’ll just do the test and come home and then I realised I have another one in the afternoon like shoot me when I’m down 😭

And also, here’s me exhausted and my dad saying ‘there will be consequences’ if I don’t load the dishwasher or tidy up like I’m sorry your old I can’t expect you to understand the stress but give me a break please! I’m not 6! Smh

Anyway, I’m mostly ok, feeling confident abt history again because Germany is an easy topic soo 😬😅

❤️‍🔥

OMG I AM ABOUT TO KIDNAP YOU (or do your exams for you - I like doing exams oops)

I did German history (or rather European History) for my A/Ls and it was actually my favorite subject - because it's easy and interesting both! I hope you do well!

I hope your English exam goes well!

PS - i love your signature emoji soooooo much.

GOOD LUCK, LOVE.

#bee happy

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ink-fireplace-coffee · 3 years ago

Text

Short Story: Kiss me, for I am dying.

A/N: this story was crafted yesterday at midnight so I can't assure the quality of it at all. It is inspired in a theatre/legend we have here in Spain called Los Amantes de Teruel, or The Teruel Lovers in english. It's like the Spanish less known version of Romeo and Juliet.

Word count: 1901.

TW: mentions of death.

I don't have a general taglist or anything on the sort, but @nathandoesntknow asked me to tag them, so here you go! enjoy my midnight weird af inspiration I guess.

------

Five months ago, Jaime would've just left if he saw that on the rooftop of the campus was already someone.

Five months ago, if he had seen that stranger sitting there- feet dangling in the air and looking at the sunset- was Isa, he would’ve turned on his heels and left before she could even so much but noticed him.

Or maybe he would’ve “asked” (more like demanded) her to go somewhere else.

Jaime and Isa hated each other. Pure and simple.

Ever since the first day of university, when Isa had given him a “you are annoying” look after Jaime had accidentally hitted her backpack, launching all her stuff through the hall.

No matter how many times he had tried to convince her that it hadn’t been on purpose, she had said that it was his fault over and over again.

If that wasn’t enough, they had not only been forced to sit next to each other for their whole third year (since it was extremely rude to tame someone else’s seat after the first week of classes) but they also were constantly competing on the top of the class.

If Isa had a 95% on the midterm, Jaime had a 98%.

If Jaime had scored a 9,9 out of ten in that essay, Isa had gotten the full mark.

Everyone saw it as a nice academic competition, the kind that made you better every day and it was healthy. Sometimes it could also be mistaken for a nice banter, or even a bit of university drama.

Isa and Jaime saw it as a live or die battle where only one of them could succeed.

Spanish had been the only subject Jaime had ever been really good at, for as long as he could remember. His zeroes in maths had always mattered less next to his tens in Spanish.

When he had told his father that his dream was to become a spanish teacher, the old man had simply nodded and said “I was not expecting less”. And so, one entrance exam to Salamanca’s university later, Jaime knew he was starting to walk the path of his future.

But while his passions were words formation, syntax and how the language had developed into today’s form; Isa had decided to study the career for a whole different reason.

It was clear that she felt completely herself when discussing novels and authors. Her essays on every single topic were excellent quality (even Jaime had to admit it) and they always provided a new, fresh way of thinking.

And maybe that's why some months ago, whatever they had agreed on had taken place.

Now, when the morning classes had already finished, Isa was already on the rooftop, a book in hand and a notebook resting on her legs.

“You are late. Again.” She remarked when she saw Jaime’s blond hair.

“Some of us have life, Isabel.” he answered in the same cold tone and took a seat in front of her.

“Being the teacher’s pet is not having a life.” They both held each other's gazes for a while, until instead of intimidating, they were staring.

The wind whooshed, making the students snap back.

Jaime cleared his throat and Isa focused on her book .“What are we revising today?” asked him.

She tapped the pages of her notebook with a pen. “Los Amantes de Teruel. Spanish version of Romeo and Juliet, I believe. Since you haven't finished it, even though it was due yesterday.” Isa added, a sassy remark included in her voice.

Jaime rolled his eyes.

Lovers of Teruel.

It is true that he had been stuck for three months in a 170 pages novel. But there were far more interesting things to do than read how two fools felt in love only to die at the end.

“I would've finished it if I hand’t been busy correcting someone’s homework.'' He remarked, as he searched for his own copy of the book inside his backpack.

Isa just scoffed, and gave him another “you are annoying” look. Jaime had to make an effort not to smile.

“You know? I wonder if those death stares are unically for me, like a personalized stare.”

“Oh, right, because you are so important in my life that I decided to give you an specific look whenever you say or do something stupid.”

“I mean… You asked me for help that day, so I guess I must be somewhat important, dear Isa.”

“I asked you for help?” she repeated, astonished “You were roaming this rooftop for weeks until I got fed up with how creepy it looked and told you to help me with that assignment, which, for the record, was perfect.”

That was true. Her assignment had been flawless, but Jaime would rather die than to admit that out loud.

“Are you planning on finishing this book with me or do you want to keep talking?” He grinned then “I’m sure there are a ton of other things you could use your mouth for, but I’d like to be prepared for my exam next week.”

Her slight blush felt like a personal win. Until she stroke back, of course.

“One: that is extremely gross, and I don’t want to know about the weird fantasies you have with my mouth. And two: it’s your turn ‘Diego’, so read.”

Since there was no point in reading plays in silence and to themselves, at the beginning of the book (three months ago), Jaime and Isa had divided the roles, taking the two main characters with them: he as Diego and her as Isabel.

“You were practically born for this role” had joked Jaime and Isa wondered how far from the ground they were… and how hard she would have to shove him.

They read some scenes out loud, stopping to make some points on the narrative, paraphrase or make a summary of what they got so far. If it was true that individually they worked really well, as a team it was almost magical.

“Kiss me, for I am dying” said Jaime/Diego for the second time. Isabel had just rejected his lover, since she had already married and didn’t wish to deceive her now husband.

“And then Diego dies because he can’t bear the pain that causes him not being able to love Isabel.” the girl closed her book, and got up, stretching “It’s late, we should go before the campus closes.”

Jaime nodded and tagged alone, but stayed quiet the whole time until they were about to leave the university.

Then, just before partying ways, the question escaped his lips “Would you kiss me if my life depended on it.?”

Both of them looked equally surprised. When he didn’t add anything else, Isa understood he was waiting for an answer.

Well, what do you answer when someone asks that without a warning?

If there’s one thing Isa had clear was that Jaime and her weren’t friends. They weren’t even study buddies! They were just two students of the same class who happened to help each other out every now and then…

And for what?

“Let’s be glad that it doesn't.” she finally said, and turned away, wanting to run as quickly as her legs could carry her.

Would you kiss me if my life depended on it?. Two college students were replaying the same question over and over in their heads. Tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

Isa didn’t have the guts to go back to the rooftop in the next few weeks. Since Jaime had handed in his essay on the novel, she had assumed he had finished it on his own.

That was good, right?

Now, both of them averted their eyes, and tried really hard not to cross paths.

What had been Jaime thinking when he asked that?! Oh right, he had been not thinking at all!

Still, not knowing the answer to the damn question was getting on his nerves. Not that he desperately wanted Isa to kiss him, that could never happen but…

Hypothetically he wanted to know.

Two weeks before finals, they both bumped into each other at the rooftop. Seeing Jaime’s figure -his back to her and his face to the orange sun-, made Isa stop on her tracks.

The door slammed closed and the guy turned around.

Awkwardness was all over the place.

“The library is super crowded and-” started to explain her. He nodded.

“I know, that’s why I’m here.”

A few minutes of silence and then:

“You finished the play.” commented Isa.

“Yeah, I did” Jaime rubbed his neck, nervous “Thanks for sharing your notes, by the way. They were really helpful.”

“Oh, um, no problem.”

“And, about that question…”

“It 's okay! You don’t have to explain anything.”

“No, really, I don’t know how it happened.”

“It’s fine, there’s no need to apologize, really.”

More silence in between them.

“I can go if you want me to.” offered then Jaime. She lifted up her gaze at him.

“The rooftop is big enough for the two of us, and I know you don't like studying at the library.”

Isa had been thinking about how much she noticed about Jaime without actually wanting to: his likes and dislikes, how he frowned slightly when there was a concept he was not following, his happy smiles whenever there was something he was pleased about…

He was grinning like that now.

“Earth calling Isa, are you there?” She blinked a few times.

“Yeah, totally. Here. Present.”

Jaime decided it was now or never.

He lifted up his hand, the one holding the book and showed it to her. "We never finished reading."

"You handed in your essay already. Why would we finish reading it?"

Clearly none of this was working. The guy slided his backpack on his shoulder. "I should go, Alejandro needs me for this book analysis-" he rambled.

"Go" Isa nodded and then smiled. "Teacher 's pet."

He just laughed awkwardly and headed out.

Isa had hated every single second of that conversation. Even if it's true they never had a friendly relationship, they had somewhat grown closer along the few months they had tutored each other.

What did Jaime really mean to her? He was insufferable sometimes, that's true. Arrogant in class and a stupid know-it-all…

But he was also brilliant. And he was kinder than he wanted to show: he had given her his jacket to go home when it was raining once; and even shared his notes with her when she had been sick.

The girl ran downstairs.

Jaime was about to go inside the teacher's office when she finally got to him. In a final effort after her sprint, she tried grabbing his arm.

The guy turned around, really surprised.

"Isa, what-"

"Ask me again." she demanded.

"What?"

"Ask. Me. Again" Isa pleaded out of breath. Her courage would flee anytime soon and then-

"Bésame, que me muero." he whispered.

Kiss me, for I'm dying.

Their lips touched.

"Do you like this ending better?" she asked after the kiss, a sly smile already forming.

He tipped his head back and laughed "Much better."

In Spain whenever someone mentions Lovers of Teruel, we have a saying that sort of finishes the sentence: stupid her and stupid him. Since they both die foolishly.

Luckily, we can assure that the sentence does not apply to Jaime nor Isa.

#short story: kiss me for i am dying #my writing #short story

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catchmewiddershins · 3 years ago

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ahh ok ok, it's good !! i'm only halfway thru but mAN, i'm hooked HAHA, and abt the type, mmm i don't really have a preference tbh, i just take a look at the blurb and if it's interesting to me, then i send a message to my mom n she decided whether to buy it or not

as for recs, i've only gotten into reading recently, but i have a few that i've been wanting to read

- agatha christie seems to be pretty popular, and i think she writes on horror, so i'll look into that

- there's also this guy, anthony horowitz, and i'm very interested in reading a book of his, the word is murder (it's out of stock on our local bookstore, so i'm just waiting on it)

- one of us is lying and one of us is next is popular with my friends and classmates, so i'm interested in it as well

but do you have any book recs? i'd like to get more into it, but i haven't been able to find a lot of good ones ; i dont mind the genre, i just get at what seems interesting to me, so feel free to drop your favorites :D

HMMMM IMMA CHECK THAT ONE OUT :DD

ok so what you got sounds good I'll give you some basic recs because I want to explore the genre a bit more myself lol (my sister also really wants to read One of us is Lying lol)

Classics (not old but like... famous):

- an Inspector Calls - a play that's quite famous, it's a script so it's all dialogue and the story is revealed through an interrogation it's a classic for a reason :) - An inspector comes to the house of a rich family in the (oh dear) like mid 1800s? Anyway he claims that they are all guilty of driving a working class woman to suicide and the whole story is slowly revealed it's so GOOD

- Oedipus Rex - ok this is an old classic but :)))) what can I say - it's another play and it's good! Technically it's a tragedy but the plot of the tragedy is Oedipus trying to solve a mystery - chances are you know the ending but that's the point, knowing the ending creates tension as he tries to figure it out and you wonder when the ball is going to drop

- Sherlock Holmes - I... I haven't actually read these but one of my best friends has and she KEEPS bugging me to read them so it's on the list because it's a classic and also my bestie likes them

- Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde - Pretty short! And so so good! You probably recognise the story and it has it's fame for a reason... t's written from the POV of this Judge? I think? I can't remember his career, anyway he becomes involved in these murders and he decides to find out who's doing it and then track the perpetrator down and it's also sci-fi and psychological I believe anyway definite recommendation

Lower level (so like ages 11 - 15? I mean that's the age I was when I read them so):

- The Mysterious Benedict Society series - honestly? I want to reread these because a television adaption is coming out and I'm mad about some of the cuts they made - it's about a group of children recruited to stop someone from brainwashing the world

- the Lady Grace mysteries - definitely around the 11/12 age when I read these so they're quite an easy read but what can I say I still like them and easy reads are good and fun - it's set in the late 1500s and the main character is Grace, goddaughter to Queen Elizabeth the first, and she becomes a private detective for the Queen for various murders happening around court while outwitting the official (male) detective who thinks that her observations are worth pretty much nothing - she also has to keep it a secret from the other Maids of Honour (like ladies in waiting but... nobles)

- Orphan Monster Spy - ok I loved this when I read it at... 13/14/15? Anyway it's about a Jewish girl in WW2 who goes undercover at a school for nazi's children to gather information it is very good

- The murder most unladylike series - OK this I read at 10/11/12 as well but just because books are for younger audiences doesn't mean they aren't gripping and they're often more creative! My sister is reading this atm and she loves it ehe - it's two girls at a boarding school that start solving mysteries together

Higher Level (so like... 15/16/17? When I read or have been recommended and all that jazz):

- Oryx and Crake - This is written by Margaret Atwood which means it's good. The woman is a legend! Handmaid's Tale COULD be considered thriller or smth like it's sci-fi but like... cmon so that's another rec by her. My English teacher and my mum keep recommending me this but I haven't started it yet... general consensus is it's good though!

- Jane Harper - She's an author who's mysteries are apparently pretty good? I have one and they all seem to be popular sooooo a recommendation :)

- The Declaration + sequels - These are written by Gemma Malley and ALL I CAN REMEMBER ABOUT HOW GOOD THEY ARE is that when I was taking my GCSE mocks (I was 15 half of us were 16) we had to do revision in an exam hall and um anyway I read this book and the Resistance instead and did not do any revision I was hooked - not really a mystery or crime technically I don't think but definitely that vibe - Basically it's a future world where children just aren't a thing? The government has designed drugs for longevity and kids born outside of the law become 'surplus' and are all housed together but this girl meets a boy from outside (I cannot for the life of me remember if they get together or not) and they escape and go to investigate the government and where these drugs are coming from

I'll add more if I read them... IDEA! This list will have a tag (#wid's book recs! and #wid's mystery recs!) so I'll add recs to it when I get them so it'll be constantly evolving and I'll do the same for other genres at some point! I had a few more that I wanted to add but I forgot and the cat is being clingy

#🕰️ deiseil #clockhand: maia 💥#hour hands!#wid talks books #wid's book recs!#wid's mystery recs!

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Idle Chat with Kiro

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a feature which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

The CN server was recently graced with a new feature called 随便聊聊 (“Idle Chat”), where you can select a mood and talk to the love interests about work, life, and studies :>

Idle Chat with: Gavin / Lucien / Shaw / Victor

[ WORK - Topic 1: Overtime ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: We can visit that dessert shop today! Because I. Don’t! Have! To! Work! Overtime!

Kiro: Although we’re separated by the screen, I can sense Miss Chip’s happiness~

Kiro: Since this is the case, our challenge today will be to--

Kiro: Wipe! The! Dessert! Shop! Clean!

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Went to work feeling muddle-headed today, which left me with a stack of incomplete work. Sigh, I might have to work overtime today.

Kiro: Did you spend too much time watching dramas last night?

Kiro: Next time, you have to stick to a regular sleeping timing.

Kiro: Also, isn’t the male lead by your side?

3. Mood: Angry

MC: The market hasn’t been good lately, so the income I received has also gone down. I feel like I’ve left everyone down...

Kiro: Back then, MC went through such difficult times.

Kiro: I think these little twists and turns don’t account for much!

Kiro: Because you’re always producing miracles!

[ WORK - Topic 2: Income ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’ve received my pay~ I even have a bonus this month! Aren’t I incredible?

Kiro: As expected of Miss Chips!

Kiro: As a reward, I’ll give you a present.

Kiro: Want to know what it is?

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I have no idea why, but I haven’t been interested in anything I do. Could it be because it’s a long time till payday?

Kiro: Mm... want to consider changing occupations and becoming my assistant?

Kiro: You’ll be paid daily.

Kiro: Also, there will be an additional, exclusive Kiro hug every day.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Working overtime again and again and again and again! There’s even a rainstorm outside! The most enraging thing is that I didn’t bring an umbrella!

Kiro: I checked the weather forecast beforehand

Kiro: So I knew there’d be a rainstorm

Kiro: Give me five minutes - I’ll be there soon!

[ WORK - Topic 3: Program Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Do you still remember the collaborative program I mentioned before? We plan to invite a mystery guest. Want to guess who he is?

Kiro: I’m guessing he is -- Kiro!

Kiro: If Miss Chips doesn’t invite me,

Kiro: I’ll be very hurt.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: The reaction from the other party regarding this collaborative program seems bland. Actually, I also find the content a little boring. I have no inspiration at all...

Kiro: In my eyes, everything Miss Chips does is very interesting.

Kiro: But if you really have no inspiration,

Kiro: Need me to help you grab it back?

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I’ve already made over thirty amendments to the proposal for this collaborative program. What more does the other party want?! What do they mean by a “vibrant black”??

Kiro: Oo... a vibrant black...

Kiro: It does sound like a difficult operation.

Kiro: Maybe it’s the same thing as how Apple Box’s jet-black eyes are bright even at night?

[ WORK - Topic 4: Program Results ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The program I’ve been working on for months has finally gotten approved! If I were to continue doing it, I’d probably have gone bald... Should I place an order for hair-growth shampoo?

Kiro: Instead of hair-growth shampoo, I think what you need more is sufficient sleep.

Kiro: Or a limited-edition Kiro hug?

Kiro: I’ll decide on both of them on your behalf~

2. Mood: Upset

MC: My daily self-reflection -- Has the program been approved? Not yet :(

Kiro: My daily self-reflection -- Do I think about Miss Chips?

Kiro: Always.

Kiro: Miss Chips, do your best!

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Good news. The program I’ve been painstakingly working on for several months has been rejected. :)

Kiro: Whenever my albums get delayed, I’ll take Apple Box out for a walk.

Kiro: Since Apple Box doesn’t have a slot recently,

Kiro: Why don’t I take you out for a walk instead?

🌻

[ LIFE - Topic 1: Losing Weight ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I've reached my ideal weight! I’m really happy~ I can finally toss away the salad that even Apple Box dislikes.

Kiro: Although I didn’t think you were fat before,

Kiro: What’s most important is that Miss Chips is happy!

Kiro: P.S. You’ve stopped eating snacks recently - Apple Box and I are both very upset.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: A sincere question - If your weight remained the same after dieting and exercising for a week, would you choose to feast ferociously on crayfish or barbecue?

Kiro: Since your weight is so disobedient,

Kiro: Let’s punish it fiercely!

Kiro: Why don’t we have barbecue along with crayfish!

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Why is it that every time I indulge in extravagant eating and drinking, I always scroll to a page showing models with incredible figures?! I’m once again putting up a flag to lose weight!!

Kiro: Promise me that you won’t go on a diet to lose weight.

Kiro: Effective exercise and a reasonable work-life balance is the correct way to do it.

Kiro: But will our weekly dessert day continue?

[ LIFE - Topic 2: Meals ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Burp-- I had a buffet this afternoon, and I’m so full now. Let me secretly tell you that I had to support myself on the wall to get out.

Kiro: Hahaha, I’m also the same after a photoshoot,

Kiro: Wanting to stuff myself to the brim.

Kiro: Next time, let’s compete to see who is the true buffet killer!

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’ve entered a special bottleneck period - What should I have for lunch? What should I have for dinner?

Kiro: Mm... this is indeed a big problem which frequently stumps me.

Kiro: Want to watch a documentary on delicacies?

Kiro: You might be able to find some “inspiration” on what to eat.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I was seized by a whim and did some cooking. When I changed the seasoning just slightly, I ended up creating a mysterious, indescribable taste...

Kiro: Mm... has your cooking magic lost its touch temporarily?

Kiro: That’s all right

Kiro: Tomorrow, we’ll try again together.

[ LIFE - Topic 3: Reading ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I came across a picture book today, and readers can use their fingers to make a dot in the book grow bigger or smaller~ It’s very adorable!

Kiro: I really wish Miss Chips were that little dot.

Kiro: That way, I can make you really tiny

Kiro: And store you in my pocket.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: There’s a book wasteland... Why can’t I find a single good book...

Kiro: Someone said that the most interesting book is a person’s life.

Kiro: Could the reason you’re unable to find a good book

Kiro: Be because your life is already very interesting?

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I’ve been keeping up with a web series, but the author said that he decided to go on a hiatus today after receiving negative comments. My spiritual nourishment is gone...

Kiro: Negative comments truly make people upset

Kiro: Want to leave an encouraging comment to the author?

Kiro: Tell him that there are many readers who like his work!

[ LIFE - Topic 4: Games ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Ding-- Dear respected customer, your gaming partner has found another interesting game. If you wish to know the name of the game, kindly reply with a ‘1′

Kiro: Rejected.

Kiro: Hahahaha, I’m just teasing you.

Kiro: 11111!

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Help... I’m stuck at the fifth stage of this riddle game. What do I have to do so the squirrel would release its hold on the key?

Kiro: There’s actually such a mean squirrel?

Kiro: Let me handle it!

Kiro: If it doesn’t work, I’ll let Cello catch it!

3. Mood: Angry

MC: My hand slipped when I was playing a game today, causing the entire game to restart :) Don’t stop me - I’m going to chop off this troublemaking hand!!

Kiro: An urgent appeal to spare your hand!

Kiro: Think on the positive side,

Kiro: We now have another thing we can complete together~

🌻

[ SCHOOL - Topic 1: Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I've prepared a studying schedule, and am filled with confidence for this new life of studying! Kiro, please supervise me from time to time!

Kiro: Understood!

Kiro: If you get lazy--

Kiro: Heheh, there’ll be punishment.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’ve been staring at my book for an hour in a daze. Why do I understand the words in isolation, but not when they are strung together?

Kiro: Mm... from a certain perspective, isn’t knowledge a series of code?

Kiro: Read them as though you’re playing a riddle game.

Kiro: Perhaps you’ll find a way to pass the stage!

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Why does my brain function so slowly the moment I start studying? Isn’t it very amazing when I play games?!

Kiro: I’d like to correct two mistakes Miss Chips made--

Kiro: Number One, whenever you get stuck in a game, you’d let me take over;

Kiro: Number Two, your brain isn’t functioning slowly. It’s just time to take a break.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 2: Homework ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Because I remembered the reward you mentioned, I finished my homework really quickly today! What’s the reward, what’s the reward?

Kiro: I already said that you could definitely do it!

Kiro: As for the reward,

Kiro: Come closer, and I’ll tell you.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Whenever I do homework, it seems that aside from the homework, I become curious about everything else. Oh yes, do you think a dog sees itself as a dog?

Kiro: Miss Chips, concentrate!

Kiro: But for your question, I’ve asked Apple Box about it

Kiro: It responded and said...

Kiro: Bark!

3. Mood: Angry

MC: A sincere question - can homework be done in stages? I really can’t finish it ahhh!

Kiro: Take your time, I’ll accompany you.

Kiro: Although I don’t know if homework can be done in stages,

Kiro: But my care for you is a fixed asset.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 3: Pre-exam Revision ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The exam is coming up soon. It’s a good thing you supervised me and ensured that I studied seriously. The scope of the exam was also very clearly detailed by the teacher!

Kiro: I think you forgot the most important thing--

Kiro: Miss Chips’ own diligence and hard work.

Kiro: Miss Chips, all the best for your exam!

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Memorising the examinable points is really difficult. It feels as though the moment I memorise a sentence, I forget the earlier one. How do you memorise the lines in your script?

Kiro: I have my exclusive Kiro memorisation technique of course!

Kiro: It’s exceptionally effective!

Kiro: If you want know about it, bring a bag of chips over to me~

3. Mood: Angry

MC: When the teacher was pointing out the important segments, he said the first three chapters are the foundation, the following three chapters are important, and the final three chapters are examinable. Doesn’t this mean I have to revise the entire book!

Kiro: It takes a long time to revise the entire book.

Kiro: Do you need a Kiro exam buddy?

Kiro: It comes with a massage, milk tea delivery, and hugs.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 4: Post-exam celebration ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The exam is over~ After comparing answers, there doesn’t seem to be any big issues! Kiro, who supervised me in my revision, is the best!

Kiro: Congratulations Miss Chips!

Kiro: Since I’ve rendered outstanding service, as a reward,

Kiro: Give all your post-examination resting time to me~

2. Mood: Upset

MC: The exam is finally over... I actually don’t feel very happy... Could it be because the final question was simply incomprehensible?

Kiro: Hasn’t Miss Chips been looking forward to this day for a very long time?

Kiro: In that case, I have to find a way to cheer you up.

Kiro: Let’s laze on the sofa and watch your favourite movie. How’s that?

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I messed it up... I gave up on the last two questions... I think I’ve definitely messed it up...

Kiro: Maybe all the questions in front were correct!

Kiro: Also, one exam doesn’t mean much

Kiro: You’ll always be the smartest Miss Chips in my heart!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc kiro #more! love! for! our! little! sunbeam!

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becca-e-barnes · 3 years ago

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hi Becca!! so i'm studying to get into law school (we have am entrance exam system in my country) and i feel so unprepared? i have to take the test in like 7 months and i am honestly so terrified? i mean i know that this fear is a good thing, right, and that it means this getting into law school actually means something to me but if i don't get in i just know that everything I have dreamed of in the last five years would be SHATTERED. I mean absolutely broken because there is nothing else I want to do with my life and it's so terrifying to the point where I had the last two years to prepare but I was so scared of messing up that I put off starting to study until literally today. and now I can't get the hang of the shit I'm doing and it's making me panic because I don't know how I'm supposed to study for so much with so little time and now my school introduced a new examination system as well and if I don't do well there then I won't be able to take these entrance exams at all but I have school for like 6 hours a day and genuinely no time to study as much as I should be and my teachers keep burying me in school work and it's just so stressful i have no idea what to do because no matter how much i try there's always something I'm not getting done and I never feel like I'm doing enough

im so sorry for the rant djsjdjjdd i just really needed to get that off my chest haha thank you for listening(:

Baby!! Super exciting to see you want to go into law and that we have more amazing, passionate people heading into the profession!! 🥺

Honestly, 7 months is super manageable! When you take into account the fact that some people will start studying the week before the entrance exam, you’re already well ahead of those people! Babe, I wrote my dissertation on the relevance of equitable maxims to a contemporary legal society in a week, you can absolutely still ace this exam!!

It’s easy for me to say it but you need some of that panic that you feel now to help you do well! It’d be worse if you didn’t feel that fear!! It’s obvious how badly you want this and yes, it’s going to be hard and you’re going to be drained by the end but you can still nail it!

I remember how difficult it was coming back from school and having to start homework and then start revision (I had no specific entrance exam though) 😩 I really don’t envy your position! Uni is so much easier than school so if you get through this, you’ll get through anything!

And angel, I know you don’t want to hear it but if things don’t go as well as you hoped the first time around, you have options!! You can always take a year out and repeat the entrance exams or you could go down a different route entirely!! I always always always wanted to go into forensics! I had a whole plan, I picked STEM subjects, almost all the courses I applied to at uni were to lead me into forensics and then I started struggling in chemistry and I couldn’t pull my grade up high enough ☹️ In the end, I dropped chemistry and did English literature instead and I had to give up the dream but that absolutely happened for a reason! I was 100% meant to be in Law, I graduated uni with first class honours and I couldn’t even imagine working in forensics now! That door closed for a reason and I’m so unbelievably glad it did!

So babe, everything happens for a reason! And I fully believe that you got this but just so that you keep in mind that the world won’t end if you need a lil extra time or you go a different route! If there’s ever a single thing you want a hand with, I’ll see what I can do for you honey! Our legislation probably won’t be the same but I’ll do what I can to help you out!! 💗

#asks answered <3 #anon #all the best sweetie!!#we’re all routing for you!#it’s so exciting seeing someone so passionate #it’s that passion that will carry you through!’#you’ll nail it babe #but don’t beat yourself up for not starting earlier #just keep going!!#I believe in you boo!! 💗#big sister becca

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porschalgarner · 3 years ago

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Is Post-Secondary Education For All Americans? The 1965 Higher Education Act- A Federal Student Loan Fiasco... At Our Expense

Part One During spring of my junior year (in 2010) while matriculating at GSU for a B.S. in Psychology, I responded to a sociology department advertisement for 'Jumpstart' (An Americorps, preschool literacy program for underprivileged socioeconomic community groups). This included an Americorps grant award of $1000 if I completed 1000 hours of community service (reading to community preschool children).

The Jumpstart supervisor (Eshe Collins), was impressed by my enthusiastic engagement with community children and suggested that I pursue a teaching career with Teach For America (TFA). She, and other GSU faculty members, touted TFA enthusiastically and encouraged me to apply, with a sense of urgency, as there were literally thousands of applicants from around the country. In fact, Collins wrote a recommendation for me.

I applied for TFA around October of 2010 by submitting an essay and a personal statement. This personal statement (encouraged and revised by my GSU English professor, Robert Burns), included information: on where I wanted to teach-- I was asked to rank TFA facilities around the country ñ I preferred Atlanta and East Coast facilities to be close to my grandmother who was about to undergo radical heart surgery; my preference for special education students and the student age group; my rationale for my desire to focus on the lower socioeconomic Black and Latino demographics.

Later that year around December in 2010, I interviewed for a TFA corps member position; with TFA staff at their Atlanta corporate office. This all day interview (conducted with 10-15 other TFA applicants) required me to present a designed lesson. This concluded with a private interview, where I was asked to reply to several scenario questions. Several of these questions touched me deeply and my emotional response went over very well with the interviewers.

I was showered with compliments and praise for making it through the hundreds and hundreds of nationwide applicants. There was a celebrity type atmosphere where I was made to feel that I was being rewarded for this achievement. I feel now, however, that I was surrounded by predators; pushing me into pursuing education programs that enabled them to milk student loan programs at my expense.

Part Two In January 2011, I was offered a Teach For America Special Education teacher position in the Los Angeles area school system; to begin upon my graduation from Georgia State University with a BS in Psychology in May 2011. Upon receipt of this offer, I was pushed to confirm my acceptance with a two week window. This was actually a contract for a 2 year commitment to work for TFA-Los Angeles (and affiliates) as a Special Education teacher.

Included in this package were Americorps grants. It was explained to me that these Americorps grants were to be awarded for each year of service that I completed with TFA-LA. It turns out that these grants were not actually to be awarded to me. Instead, these Americorps grants were to be given to the CA university that TFA-LA designated for me. This was to be concurrent with my enrollment in a Masters program for Special Education with a credential in Mild/Moderate Disability K-12 in a CA university. I was not inclined to accept this offer because I had indicated a preference for location in TFA Atlanta, to be near my advanced age grandmother (suffering from congestive heart failure).

During this time, I received calls from TFA graduates & alumni extolling the benefits of joining TFA. I did accept and was flown to Los Angeles during spring break of my senior year in early March to take the CA teaching exams (the CBEST and the CSET). The Testing was at my own expense; including an extra test fee because TFA mistakenly registered me several times for the same test. I wasn't happy about the extra test fee.

Part Three I passed both tests and Teach For America-Los Angeles staff informed me that I was now to become a TFA-Los Angeles cohort member (a program designation during our two year commitment) and was expected to relocate for TFA-provided-training in Los Angeles and find housing on my own with a $6,000 TFA provided personal loan. I was told to pay back this loan by the end of my 2 year commitment. Note that the final payment for this private loan was made June 2012. This was not a student loan.

I drove to Los Angeles and paid for personal lodging until I was given lodging in a Loyola Marymount University dormitory provided by TFA-Los Angeles; the site of their training programs. Training was done during the summer while staying at the LMU campus. The 1st day of training required trainees to be split into their teaching specialty (mine was Special Education- SPED) and given a lengthy presentation made by a Loyola SPED director and a couple of TFA Managers of Teacher Leadership Development (or MTLDs). After this presentation we all were given financial aid packages and the MTLDs directed the completion of each form. No questions were answered and we were told that entrance to the program was contingent upon the completion of these financial aid packages.

The training schedule consisted of 12 hour days for teacher prep workshops and seminars, lesson plan creation, along with in-class trials. In parallel, all the concurrent CA state licensing credential applications were completed in an accelerated time frame. Seminars and workshops were conducted every day of the week, including Saturdays and sometimes Sunday(s). The SPED group was physically separated from other trainees. Besides myself (an African American female born in Miami) this group included a middle aged Muslim woman, a trans man, and a disabled Asian man.

Participants of my group were repeatedly asked to perform as minorities (and identified as such by TFA staff). These performances were done before all the white students, faculty, and staff in the other groups. They put us before everybody: those that worked for TFA corporate headquarters, the LMU Faculty, and new TFA recruits. TFA staff called this ìInstituteî. I called it demeaning objectification performances for others - all white people! Within our group our TFA MTLD directed that this was to be identified as 'white privilege'. These performances were mandatory.

Part Four There were 2 Managers of Teacher Leadership Development for Special Education. I was assigned to MTLD Stephanie Goodman. There was one additional MTLD who also led the remaining SPED teacher trainees. His name was Johnathan Stoneberg. With the MTLDs guiding the trainees, a Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA) application form was completed after the 1st day presentation. This 1st day presentation was an intense sales presentation designed to close the deal, and was the only discussion of the program cost and payment options Teach For America-LA provided during the entire training period. It was filled with slides introducing a Loyola Marymount University scholarship of $20,000 plus a $5,000 Americorps grant. No mention of the cost of tuition at LMU was mentioned, but the financial aid benefit for me was emphasized and I was immediately encouraged by my supervisors to accept the offer.

At no time did any TFA-LA staff or LMU faculty mention a debt that I was agreeing to accepting these so-called scholarships and grants. We were told, that acceptance of the financial aid package, was required to enter LMU's Masters program for SPED. In short, completion and acceptance of LMU's Financial Aid Package was considered mandatory. And, continuous work completing the package was done while concurrently completing the numerous California teacher credential licensing application forms online.

I asked and was denied a choice for other CA universities. I was specifically told that it was not an option for any TFA-Los Angeles SPED cohort member. The program at private Loyola Marymount University was the most expensive of all TFA school partnerships. All other TFA affiliated CA universities were much less expensive, as they were all public CA universities. CA public universities had substantially lower tuition. I expressed my desire to take the least expensive route. All SPED cohort members expressed dissatisfaction; nevertheless, we were told that if we did not complete the LMU applications (virtually/online, and on-site, at that time), we were subject to removal from TFA-Los Angeles. Removal from the program required any cohort member to pay back money that was invested in each of us for relocation and training. This money, we were told, was in addition to the private/personal loan already agreed to.

After completing all the documentation foisted upon me, I found out from another member that subsequently quit the program prematurely, that the pay back amount was from TFA private funding (they said), and totaled over $10,000. I also discovered that non-SPED Teacher trainees were given a choice as to which CA school (public or private) they could attend. I can remember feeling uneasy and cheated at the time. I complained to my MTLD, that it was unsettling not to inform TFA cohort members of their financial obligations until after our relocation on-site in LA. It was further explained that the student financial aid loan package that we were to receive required each of us to become employed as a Teacher in the Los Angeles area school system.

Even then, I was not told the specific amount of the student aid loan package, for which I completed application forms. Instead, I was simply told by my assigned MTLD that all of our requirements and expenses were covered with the student aid loan package. I found this somewhat confusing at the time, as I was already in debt with the TFA personal private loans. I was told to start paying back these private loans immediately after the TFA-LA summer training program ended. I didn't understand the distinction between the private loans and the vague student financial package. None of the TFA MTLDs would resolve my confusion. I was convinced to continue with the TFA-LA program, with my questions unanswered.

Part Five Masters classes began immediately and remained concurrent with the two month Teach For America-Los Angeles training. In addition, TFA-Los Angeles staff provided templates for a standard resume, and we interviewed with Los Angeles school representatives for jobs in local schools affiliated with TFA-Los Angeles. Training concluded and I was hired at Animo Middle School #3 (a Green Dot Public School charter school organization) in August of 2011, weeks before the first day of school. A fellow TFA-Los Angeles classmate and I found an apartment to share and settled in to start our perspective jobs. Loyola Marymount Masters classes were conducted during night school after our full-time jobs.

Part Six My roommate and I shared a $3000 apartment in Echo Park, CA, while I commuted to my job at Animo Middle School located in Inglewood, CA. I was paid about $4000 per month. I was usually getting home at 11pm after work and class and sitting in traffic. I worked nonstop daily, and was on my way to work by 6:30 am each morning. After Teach For America Los Angeles requirements on Saturdays, I spent the rest of my weekend lesson planning for work. There were six core subjects for special education that I taught. I taught 6th, 7th, and 8th grade history and science classes.

Part Seven I arrived at Animo Middle School #3 on the first day of class; with local news reporters and protesting families outside along the parking lot and school entrance. I was assigned to a school in a community of Blacks and Latinos near Los Angeles Normandie Ave and 120th St neighborhood. This first day of work, I learned that Teach For America faculty and Green dot employees were hired to replace all the previous years' LAUSD staff. The community was incensed. As a result, the environment we were assigned was intense, to say the least; this is something TFA cohorts were not equipped or trained for by TFA-Los Angeles.

Part Eight Throughout my tenure at this school, the atmosphere and neighborhood were terrifying. One of my 8th grade students was shot on his way home from school; he was hospitalized and survived. My roommate quit her Teach For America-Los Angeles job halfway through the school year, after one of her students was killed from gang violence. She told me that she felt unprepared for the emotional toll her job was taking and that it was affecting her mental health. This teaching experience along with keeping up with our Masters courses took a tremendous toll. My roommate decided that she could not handle this and opted out of the TFA-Los Angeles program. That is when we both discovered TFA-Los Angeles penalties for not staying the course. TFA-Los Angeles demanded repayment of $10,000. She & we were told that this was the minimum outlay TFA-Los Angeles provided for our training. She took on a job in the TFA-Los Angeles office and moved out, replacing her tenancy with someone she located on Craigslist. The rent imbalance added to the negatives, which were becoming overwhelming for me as well. I, too, began to doubt the wisdom of my choice to sign on the TFA-Los Angeles program.

Part Nine All my Special Education students were black. Most, if not all, of these students were being warehoused with little or no attention being given to their actual education. Being black myself, this was not acceptable. So I beefed up the curriculum and made it interesting for each of my students. It was very successful. With the students. With the school administrators; not so much. In fact, this became the impetus for a campaign to oust me from the program. I didn't ignore the standardized curriculum; I used it and surrounded it with material relevant to African-Americans. The students, who previously had habitual truancy rates, ended the school year with perfect attendance. The school principal took my additions to the curriculum as opportunities to advocate for my removal from the program. It was very stressful, but the children came first; and they were happy to learn for a change. Oddly enough, the school principal thought that this connection with the students went against the Teach For America culture. I felt at all times that I was being punished for putting the children's education first. It was not encouraging.

Part Ten The final straw for me occurred when I found out my grandmother (still residing in the Atlanta, GA area), was scheduled to have heart surgery in the summer of 2012. But I was wary of Teach For America-Los Angeles' financial penalties. So, I decided to take a leave of absence from the TFA-Los Angeles and Loyola Marymount masters program, and return to Atlanta to provide assisted living for my grandmother during her heart surgery recovery. I wanted to return to Atlanta to make sure she recovered, but did not want to be charged the fee for leaving Teach for America early. I communicated my concern to my Manager of Teacher Leadership Development (MTLD) Stephanie Goodman who helped me draft an emergency release waiver. I was granted an emergency release in June 2012 after my Los Angeles area middle school students' summer graduation. The emergency release extended for two years. After which I would be given the opportunity to return to the TFA-Los Angeles program or apply to the TFA Atlanta program in 2014.

Part Eleven In 2014, I found work at an Atlanta area high school teaching Special Education classes in preparation for my transfer to Teach For America-Atlanta. This was after my leave expired. My intent was to control or find an acceptable teaching environment while I continued my SPED Masters' courses, in an Atlanta area university. I applied to transfer from the TFA-Los Angeles program to the TFA-Atlanta program. My TFA LA Supervisor Stephanie Goodman initiated an Atlanta TFA transfer. When I began the enrollment process for the Georgia State University Masters program for Special Education with a credential in Mild/Moderate Disability K-12, TFA-Atlanta staff decided that I would have to undergo TFA training again and none of my completed Loyola Marymount Masters program credits would be transferred. To my surprise, I was asked to sign up for training (and more student financial aid loans) all over again. TFA-Atlanta staff informed me that I was expected to pay for the TFA-Atlanta Institute training program and then serve an additional 2 years of teaching service while I pursued my Masters at GSU. In short, my full year in TFA-Los Angeles' program would not count towards TFA-Atlanta's program. I even discovered then, that the provisional CA teaching credential, which I had also paid for, was no good in GA. I did not continue with TFA-Atlanta, nor did I return to TFA-Los Angeles. What's more, I did not finish the Teach For America program in 2013 (I stopped in 2012). So the student loan funding I used for TFA & Loyola Marymount provided me absolutely nothing and was a waste.

Part Twelve In 2015, newly married, my family moved to Los Angeles where I began work as a Special Education instructional aide. Since I had excellent grades from my course work in the 2011-2012 Teach For America Loyola Marymount University SPED Masters program, I decided to finish the Masters program. This is when I discovered that not even the courses I had taken were relevant to LMU's current SPED Masters program. I was told that the TFA/LMU SPED Masters program had been discontinued. So all my hard work and well-earned grades were for naught.

Part Thirteen In the fall of 2017, I was notified by mail from the National Consumer Law Center (NCLC) agency that my student loans (totaling over $90,000) had been purchased from Sallie Mae. This was the first notice I received of the amount of student loan debt I incurred from my formal (undergraduate /Georgia State University and postgraduate/Loyola Marymount) education. This notice claimed I was delinquent in student loan repayment, indicating that I had failed to make payments for several years on a total of 17 student loans (15 from Georgia State University undergraduate and 2 from Teach For America/Loyola Marymount postgraduate). Added to the loan amounts was almost $30,000 in service fees. This letter recommended that I sign up for a payment plan ($5/month) that would remove the delinquent status as well as the service fees. I signed up for automatic student loan payments for $5 each month and after 6 months my loan amounts dropped to $67,000. Indicating that my income level qualified me, NCLC staff directed me to the student loan servicer - Navient. Navient staff instructed me to consolidate my loans to make payments more manageable. I was able to consolidate a number of my undergraduate loans; now, resulting in 4 (down from 15) undergraduate loans for GSU, plus the 2 postgraduate loans for TFA/Loyola Marymount. I was a special education instructional aide, in the Los Angeles area, at the time, with an low income that qualified me to register for the income driven repayment plan, where they stated I qualified for no payments for 12 months based on my income level. I was instructed to renew an Income-driven repayment plan (IDR) every year. I was not aware that interest payments would accumulate in the interim, so now in 2021, the student loan total for the 4 undergraduate student loans and the 2 postgraduate student loans totals over $84,000. My correspondence with Navient staff was the first indication I received of the postgraduate loans payed to TFA/Loyola Marymount. TFA-Los Angeles staff took great pains to obscure the amounts of student loans I was asked to apply for, through their program.

Part Fourteen July 2021, I applied for student loan consolidation (for my undergraduate student loans) from a member based credit union (the CA Credit Union) that offers a student loan consolidation service, and was denied. According to CCU staff (Maria in the Loan Dept), the denial was based on the number and amount of delinquent and outstanding student loans that I was trying to consolidate. Ironically, I was told that my current NYC tutor annual salary (of $51,300) was insufficient to qualify me for consolidating student loans in excess of that. The student loans that I was attempting to consolidate, totaled $54,545. Further more, I was told that I had too many negative items on my credit report to qualify for a student consolidation loan. How bogus is that? The negative items in my credit report are only associated with the student loans that I was attempting to consolidate. This year, I applied for a department of education loan discharge on the basis of several of the irregularities mentioned here in my narrative. How bogus is that? I was denied because my loan is not in default and ironically, because I am making loan payments.

Part Fifteen Teach For America took advantage of my economic ignorance. But they were not the exception. From undergraduate at Georgia State University, to postgraduate at TFA-Los Angeles/Loyola Marymount, I was enthusiastically encouraged by faculty and counseling staff, to apply for student loans to cover expenses being charged to me for education that was not preparing me to make a salary that would enable me to one day pay the student loans off. Specifically though, my experience with TFA continues to be traumatic; as I am struggling to pay off this outstanding debt. Ironically, the educational credits I earned while at TFA-Los Angeles /Loyola Marymount University, cannot be utilized anywhere. The only evidence of my educational experience with TFA is my crushing debt.

Thank you for your time.

See me in my youtube video here: https://youtu.be/z_ps66UTpEE

#student loan debt #studentloandebt

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aspiringhorrorauthor · 4 years ago

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hello, PLEASE tell me your aroace analysis of the black parade album, i would like to see it 👀👀

What up guys, I just passed a vet med practice exam and I’m aroace and emo as fuck so let’s do this

First off, I will preface that I know that this wasn’t quite MCR’s idea of the album, but art is interpretive and I will at every possible opportunity rub my grubby little aroace hands all over that shit. This is also gonna get long so here’s a read more

Okay so first off, let me just exclude the following songs from this interpretation simply because they are exactly as they appear: The End, Dead!, Welcome to the Black Parade, Sleep, Teenagers and Blood. I can’t find anything to really psychoanalyse in this regarding the aroace experience so much as they are about the emo experience. And also, as a heads up, I feel this may teter more into aromantic interpretation than asexual simply because that’s how I roll, baby.

Let’s start with ‘This Is How I Disappear’, there’s something in here that strikes me as ‘coming to terms with being aroace Very Badly’, that first onset of panic when you realise ‘oh crap, I’m not allo’. I didn’t have the ‘hell yeah no sexual/romantic attraction oh wait there’s a word for that?’ realisation often stated online, I was in a lot of denial, especially when I first started listening to this album.

The lines “And without you is how I disappear/and live my life alone forever now” really strikes this message to me. The gnawing sense of loneliness and isolation when you first realise that you’re not like everyone else, that ‘living a life alone’ is both what you want from life and dread, as an amatonormative society drills into every one of us that love and relationships is what makes us important in life, and without it we will simply disappear. The line hits home the pain of questioning, the horror of when you realise this is who you likely are before you can truly accept it. It’s not a pretty part of being aroace, it wasn’t for me, but it is an important one, and the lines always hit home to me in this era.

Added on to this is a sense of how we’re seen in media. Consider the line “Who walks among the famous living dead”. There’s a real push in amatonormativity that love and romance is what makes us human, what makes us alive, and without it, we’re not human. Therefore, by extension, the aromantic narrator is ‘not alive’ by these standards, nor is their community they’ve yet to find. This is also doubled down by the monster symbolism throughout the song; especially when I was younger, aromantic (and asexual) coded characters in media were always the bad guys, the monsters who could only be stopped by the unstoppable power of love; the narrator is lamenting how this part of themselves seems monstrous, evil to society, when really that isn’t true, and this evolves over the course of the album.

Let’s move on to The Sharpest Lives. This is less aroace specific, but it certainly seems like a downward spiral of the narrator, which carries on from the self-loathing of Disappear. There’s really only 1 line I want to talk about here: “Juliet loves the beat and the lust it commands/Drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands, Romeo”. This is an obvious allusion to Romeo and Juliet, but it turns on its head the usual story of Romeo and Juliet being in love; Juliet doesn’t love Romeo, she just loves the beat, and Romeo is taking it too far. This speaks to another experience, not exclusive to aromantics, but definitely strongly felt in it, when someone misinterprets the relationship or your feelings and tries to push for romance when all you wanted was a good time. I had an awful experience of this myself, so I’m claiming this one for the aroaces.

(As an aside, I got into MCR around the same time we did Romeo and Juliet at school, so imagine little me, not knowing she’s aroace and sick to death of talking about romance at school and hearing this line. To say I lost my shit was an understatement. I ADORE that line.)

Next up is ‘I Don’t Love You’. I’ve talked about this one before on my blog, but this is the song that really gives it away to me that this album is very strongly catered towards aroaces. “But it’s a break up song!” No, it’s not, if you look at it from the correct angle. Also I’ve gone to further lengths with other break up songs so try me bitches (See: Love Drunk by Boys Like Girls being about disregarding amatonormativity rather than breaking up with someone. It’s so damn obvious too)

Here’s the short of it: I Don’t Love You is actually about falling out with a friend because you had entirely different ideas as to what it was you wanted from your relationship. The aro narrator wants it to remain friends; they’re happy with where they are, and doesn’t want it to change. The other ‘person’ in the song is alloromantic, and wants it to become a romantic relationship. The most important line for this is the most important line in the song: “When you go, would you even turn to say, I don’t love you like I did yesterday”. Let’s focus on the word choice here: ‘Like I did yesterday’. When allos talk about love, they talk about the amount; if this was about falling out of love, it would reflect that, that the other person in the song loves them less, not differently. The narrator is lamenting that their friend no longer loves them as a friend; the friend’s view of love has changed, they love them romantically, and less as a friend as a result, and the narrator’s insistence on remaining friends has highlighted this.

What’s more, I don’t think this is the first time the narrator has gone through this. Admittedly, I misheard one of the lines for years and I insist the line is “Another time was just another blow” but I’m not American so we don’t have dollars, and this is about me and my interpretation of the album so we’re in this ride together and I’m driving so lets do this. The song is very pained, you can hear it in Gerard’s voice, and there’s so little about the pain of losing a friend, especially when they wanted romance from you, that this song really speaks to.

What really gets me though is how the narrator is clearly still struggling with being aroace too. Let’s consider the line “Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading”. The narrator clearly isn’t at ease with their identity yet; maybe they wish they could keep their friend, but their placing their boundaries down, even though its costing a friend. These boundaries are important, and its important for our friends to respect them too. And listening to, and singing along to, this song really makes me proud for the narrator in a sort of self-love kind of way when you couldn’t love yourself.

Final matter on this song: the narrator still thinks of them as a friend, which is tearing the narrator apart. Yes, the line “Don’t ever think I’ll make you try to stay” might make you think differently, but I believe that’s the narrator setting their boundaries; they’re not going to become an item just to please their friend and make them stay. Instead lets look at “Better get out while you can”. The narrator sees that their different views on the relationship is incompatible, and suggests they ‘fall out’ before their friend gets too caught up, and the rejection pains them both even more.

Now for House of Wolves. Not a long to say on this one, but I see it as being about media and ace exclusionists. See, the song flips between another character seeing the narrator as an angel and as a sinner simultaneously; just as how the media depicts asexual/aromatic/aroace people as non-human, that our sexuality (or lack thereof) makes us incomplete (the sinner aspect), while exclusionists say that we must be loved by the same media (and by religion too) for being aspec (the angel aspect). The song flip flops between them very rapidly, a state of confusion that felt very poignant for me when I was questioning in the height of the ace discourse.

Okay Mama is just here not for interpretation but because my English teacher once told us to analyse songs for her to mark as revision for exams and she loves long songs and kept making us analyse them so I analysed Mama and handed that in and got an A*. So Mama said AroAce rights that day.

Disenchanted is another strange one, filled with lines that mean more to aroace interpretation than the song itself. It spoke to me most when I was on my year out, having failed to get into uni despite good grades, still struggling with coming to terms with being aromantic, and dealing with severe anxiety. All in all, it was a year of disenchantment. It’s a good song. So what about an aroace interpretation?

The main thing about the song seems to be pretending to be someone you’re not. And really, when talking with family who expect you to be allo, how can you be anything but? I was told in this time that ‘Girls only go to university to find a husband’, which is many levels of wrong, but that thought always sticks in my head with this song. Moreover, I always think of break up songs with the line “You’re just a sad song, with nothing to say”, because they ARE just sad songs with nothing to say; and yet we’re expected to love them, because it’s a universal experience. There’s never been nothing to them.

But really, the line “I spent my high school career spit on and shoved to agree, so I can watch all my heroes sell a car on TV” is what really spoke to me. You spend school years being told that these people are sexy, you’ll want romance one day, and you have to agree or we’ll bully you mercilessly for it. The kids at school knew who was aroace before they knew what aroace meant. And we grow up watching heroes we relate to on TV, the fantastic loners who don’t need a significant other, only for fandom and the shows themselves to pair them up, make them “sell cars on tv” and sell out what made them special to us. And it hurts. And this song reflects that so well. In this song, the narrator is reflecting back on the years lost by hating themselves, slowly coming to terms with being aroace.

And finally, Famous Last Words. This is the real tipping point where the narrator feels comfortable with themselves, and finally confronts the friend from ‘I Don’t Love You’. The song is sung by one person, yes, but it feels like a dialogue between the friend, who still wants to hold a romantic relationship with the narrator, and the narrator who’s finally had enough. The introduction is from the friend, their thoughts on the narrator and how they know that they’re not going to win, but maybe they can make them feel bad for it “But where’s your heart?”, the friend is accusing the narrator of being heartless for being aromantic. But here’s the thing:

The narrator’s accepted who they are. “Well is it hard understanding? I’m incomplete.” The narrator accepts that they’re aroace, that to the friend, they are different, they don’t experience romance. The pain that they felt in the first few songs, of being the living dead and disappearing, makes them feel incomplete still, but they’re finally secure with being aroace enough to declare that, while they aren’t fully there yet, “I am not afraid to walk this world alone.” The narrator knows who they are, and they’re no longer afraid of it. Even when the friend tries to backpedal “Honey if you stay I’ll be forgiving” the narrator knows that the friend isn’t worth the pain anymore “Nothing you can say can stop me going home.”

That’s also why the lines about ‘love’ in this song are so important too. “A love that’s so demanding I can’t speak” “A love that’s so demanding, I get weak”. The narrator is explaining that, for them, romance is demanding; it’s not easy, and it’s not worth it for them, it’ll tire them out. The first quote can also speak of their friendship now; it’s so demanding, the narrator feels that if they stay, they may not be able to speak up for themselves any more. They have to friend break up, for both of their wellbeings.

And finally, the last verses “Awake and unafraid, asleep or dead” is the final attempt at kicking the narrator, harking back to “the famous living dead”. But the narrator refutes it by insisting that they’re not afraid to be alone anymore. And the song ends with the narrator winning, leaving the friend for good, for a better life.

And that’s the aroace interpretation of Black Parade.

And it’s 2200 words long fuck

#my chemical romance #the black parade #aroace #aromantic #asexual #You should've asked me why I can headcannon every video game character as aroace instead its shorter #Well all except the sims 2

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